


This Can't Be The End

by roslinadamasinequanon



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-18
Updated: 2006-10-18
Packaged: 2019-05-15 05:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14784135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roslinadamasinequanon/pseuds/roslinadamasinequanon
Summary: The night of the shooting at the Newseum, Jed is injured much worse than in the series. Josh is not involved. This is Abbey's POV of the night she spends at her husband's bedside.





	This Can't Be The End

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Oh God, not Jed, not my Jed. The words became a mantra in my head as the car rushed me to GW. Zoey is OK they had told me. But Jed. Oh God, Jed was hit. It was bad. The way they were rushing me to the hospital I knew it was bad. Oh God, not Jed. Not my Jed. The hospital is a flurry of activity as I stride in and see Zoey huddled in a chair being comforted by CJ. 

"Zoey...Baby?" 

Zoey looked up with a tear stained face. "Mommy!" She cried and raced into my outstretched arms. My heart lurched at the sight of the blood on my daughter. 

"Are you OK, sweetie?" I asked while frantically checking her over. 

"It's not my blood, Mom. It's Daddy's," she began to sob. "He's hurt really bad. They shot him. More than once. There was blood everywhere. It was coming out his mouth." 

"Oh Zoey," I murmured. I was terrified for Jed's life and aching for what my daughter had witnessed tonight. I noticed that CJ was splattered with blood and looked as if she was in a daze. "Were you with him?" I asked, desperate for news about my husband. "Were you with Jed?" 

"Y...yes," CJ said, "Zoey and I were already in the limo when the shooting started. Then Ron shoved the President in. I thought he was dead." Tears filled CJ's eyes at the memory. 

"Was he shot in the head, CJ?" I ask, hearing my voice shaking as I tried to get the image of JFK in Dallas out of my mind. 

"No, it was his chest and his stomach." 

"Was he conscious?" 

"Briefly. He asked for Zoey. I think he was trying to find out if she was OK. When he heard her voice, he said your named twice. He said 'Abbey, I'm so cold' and then he lost consciousness." 

Oh God, I covered my mouth with my hand trying to keep myself under control. 

"Momma, he was hurt so bad," Zoey said. "Please don't let him die. Please Momma, don't let him die." Oh my baby, I thought. My heart broke at her pleas with me. 

"I'm not going to let him die," I assured her, "but, I need to go to him. Will you be OK with CJ?" 

"Yes," Zoey nodded, "Just don't let him die." I nodded through tears and turned blindly to find out information on my husband. Down the hall, outside a trauma room, I saw Leo. 

"Leo...Leo, how is Jed?" Leo turned to me, his face pale and shell shocked. 

"He's in surgery." 

"How does it look?" 

"Abbey," Leo warned. 

"Dammit Leo, I need to know." 

"It's not good. He was flatlining when they brought him in here." 

"Leo..." I felt my knees give way and Leo grasped my arms. But, I didn't let go. Jed needed me and I wasn't about to let him down. Leo led me to a seat. 

They were able to get him stabilized enough to get him into surgery. That's all I know. After three hours of waiting the surgeon came out. From the look on his face I knew it wasn't good. He was trying to be optimistic but it wasn't good. They had to leave one of the bullets in, it was lodged next to his spinal cord. 

"What are his odds?" I asked briskly. 

"Ma'am..." He was reluctant to give me that information. 

"Look, I am a doctor. I want to know my husband's chances." 

"Well, um...maybe 25%." 

"That he'll die?" I asked. 

"That he'll live," the doctor said grimly. Leo gripped my arm again for his own support as well as mine. 

"Abbey," Leo said, "Jed's beaten worse odds than that before. He'll beat this." I nodded my eyes swimming with tears. 

"I want to see him," I said as calmly as possible. I knew they wouldn't let me see him if I were hysterical. I entered Jed's room. I am a doctor, I should be used to this sight but I am not. I am not ready to see someone I love in this state. This was the most powerful man in the world. This was Jed. This was my virile, commanding, bigger than life husband reduced to this pale, lifeless form. Dozens of tubes ran from his body. Breathing tubes, drainage tubes, catheters, and IV's. The only sound in the room was the 'whoosh' of the respirator that pumped air into Jed's lungs and inflated his chest and the beep of the monitors that showed he was still alive. His heart was still beating. My fingers moved to my trembling lips but I was not going to lose it. I approached the bed cautiously. 

"Hi pumpkin," I said softly, "I'm here now." I brushed a tendril of his sandy brown hair back from his brow. "You're a fighter, Jed. You always have been. I need you to fight now with everything you have." I pulled a chair up beside the bed and took his limp hand between my two hands as if I could will my strength into him. This hand, I thought, this hand that I know so well. This is the hand that placed his grandmother's antique diamond engagement ring on my finger when he actually got down on one knee and proposed to me out by the pond on his parents' farm. The farm that later became ours. This hand that taught my untrained virgin body all it knows about the pleasure of passion and everything erotic. The same hand that through the years came to know my body better than I did. That could be so exquisitely gentle and tender as he reverently made love to me, or so forceful and strong when the sex had to be wild and passionate. 

This hand that shook slightly taking the light from his single candle as I did mine, and together we lit the marriage union candle, symbolically becoming one, while 'Ave Maria' was sung at our nuptial wedding Mass. This hand that took mine and gently placed the gold band on my finger as he pledged, "With all that I have and all that I am, I honor you in the name of God." Those vows had been more than just mere words to both of us. They were the words we lived by every day. The words that kept us together when the passion of anger replaced the passion of pleasure. 

This hand that ran over my cheek with awe when I told him I was pregnant with Elizabeth, then moved to my waist and whirled me around. This hand that rubbed my back while I threw up every morning, that weighed my new fuller breasts, and was permanently attached to the mound of my belly waiting for a kick or movement as I got bigger and bigger. That later dialed the phone so frantically when I went into labor. This hand that wiped my brow and got crushed by mine as I dealt with wave after wave of contractions and then trying to push our child into the world. God, nobody can warn you about pain like that. I have never been able to explain to anyone just how awful the pain of childbirth is. I was so scared and hurting, and Jed, well, Jed was white as a ghost and more scared than me. How he hates blood. He tried so desperately to get me to take drugs and ease my suffering. He never could stand to have me or anyone he loves hurt. But, when push came to shove, and I'd begun to lose it to the pain and exhaustion, he had become my rock. Just hearing his voice calming me and encouraging me kept me going when I just wanted to quit and have it be over. Then, there was that deer in the headlights look on his face when the doctor told him to come down to have the first look at his baby. I will never forget the shaking sound of his voice as he told me, "My God Abbey you're really doing it. I can see the head!" Then it was over, and he was holding me in his arms comforting me before moving down to cut our daughter's umbilical cord. His hands so tentatively cradled Elizabeth's head as he showed me our beautiful daughter still covered in blood and birthing fluids. He stroked her head while he kissed my sweaty brow, telling her quite solemnly, "Hello, Elizabeth Bartlet. I'm your Daddy and I'm going to love and take care of you for the rest of my life." 

We were on our own in London at that point, without any family to guide us as young new parents. We learned how to care for our newborn on our own. I remember being so scared I wasn't feeding her enough since I couldn't actually tell how much milk she was getting from my breast. Jed, on the other hand, was terrified at how tiny and fragile she was. He was so scared he would tap her back too hard when he burped her or hurt her legs when he changed her diapers. In time, he became an old hand at changing diapers and giving bottles of breast milk when I wasn't available. For midnight feedings, Jed liked to go get Elizabeth and bring her to me so I could sleepily nurse her in our bed. He would stretch out next to us, propping up on one elbow stroking his daughter's cheek and my breast. How he loved to watch me nurse our babies. And me, well, I just felt like everything I loved was right there in that bed with me. It was such a safe feeling. Later, as she got older, Elizabeth took her first steps from my arms into her daddy's outstretched hands that whirled her around as if she had just accomplished the greatest feat ever. To her daddy and I, it was. 

Then, a few years later, these same hands of his held my arms tightly as he walked me through the halls of the farmhouse when I was in labor with Ellie. How he fought my decision to have her at home with Millie in attendance as midwife. It definitely scared the hell out of him. Of course, it didn't help that Ellie took her sweet time getting here. I thought Jed was going to climb the walls. I think if he had asked Millie what the hell was taking so long one more time she would have killed him. However, it was Jed's strong hands that caught Ellie's body as she slipped into our lives. I loved the idea that she was born in the same house that Bartlets had been born in since pre-Revolutionary days. I loved that she was born in the same bed she was conceived in. 

There was no chance of that with Zoey. She had been a difficult pregnancy. I almost lost her and had to have two months of bed rest. Boy, Jed really came through that time. Those wonderful hands of his made breakfast, packed lunches, combed hair, fixed barrettes, gave baths, wiped noses, and patched skinned knees. Those hands held tiny tea cups and pretended to sip while he played tea party with the girls. Those hands that carved pumpkins at Halloween and the turkey at Thanksgiving, that cut down our Christmas tree and put together bicycles and dollhouses long after midnight mass was over, and then he still woke up with a booming laugh to lift the girls into the air when they came jumping into bed with us at 6:00am shouting that Santa had come. 

Those hands that rubbed my temples and stroked my head while they took Zoey by C-section and I was crying that it was too early. His soft voice in my ear saying over and over "It's OK Abbey, don't cry babe, everything is going to be fine." I still can't believe he made it through an actual surgery without hyperventilating. But, that is my man. Give him a crisis and he is a rock. That's what makes him a great President. And, Zoey was a crisis. Just over three pounds, she fit in her fathers cupped hands. We were so scared of losing her the fact that she wasn't a boy barely registered with us. Jed's hands held his tiny premature daughter hooked to tubes, and through tears, prayed and willed her to live. I watched him sit by her incubator saying decades of the rosary with the jade Celtic rosary I gave him for Christmas one year. 

It was me who wanted to try again. To try once more for a son. Three years later I was pregnant again. I was sure this one was a boy. I was right and Jed,'s hands held me tight while I miscarried that tiny little boy. Peter John Bartlet was perfect except for the fact that he was too tiny to survive. I had only been in my fifth month. He fit perfectly in Jed's palm. He'd held him in that palm studying the only son he thought he'd ever have with tears streaming down his cheeks. We named him Peter because he was going to be our special angel who would greet each of us when we finally joined him in heaven. After Peter's birth and death, Jed was adamant. His exact words were, "No more babies, Abbey. You mean more to me than any son. I don't want to take a chance I might lose you or have you go through this again." I knew he was right but, as much as I loved my daughters with all my heart, as much as I knew Jed loved them with all his heart, as stupid as I knew it was, I always felt like I'd failed him by not carrying his son to term. But I agreed with him, I didn't want to go through that again. 

That's why I knew Jed wouldn't take it well when I told him the real reason I wasn't feeling well tonight. That, thanks to one careless weekend in India when we visited the Taj Mahal on the way to the G7 summit and I had forgotten my birth control pills, I was again pregnant. I had been so afraid to tell him, but now, oh God, if only he would wake up and yell at me for not letting him withdraw from my body when he wanted to. Maybe subconsciously I knew I was taking the chance. My one last chance to give Jed a son before it was too late. It's funny how all my thoughts go back to the personal, private, and family moments we have shared before he was President. I don't think about his hands as they shake hundreds of others on the campaign trail. All those hands reaching out to touch his, to touch something great. I only briefly touch on Inauguration Day when Jed's hand rested on his mother's bible, which I was holding, while he took the Oath of Office. That's because while the rest of America was waiting to hear news about their dying President, I was right there waiting with my dying husband. 

"God Jed, please...please don't leave me," I plead. "I don't know how to do this alone. I don't remember a time when it hasn't been you and me. I'm too old to raise this baby alone. You need to wake up Josiah Bartlet. Oh Jed...please...please don't leave me. I love you so much." I began to cry then, my lips pressed to the back of his lifeless hand. The door to the room opened and a nurse walked in with a bag. 

"I'm sorry to disturb you, ma'am," she said. 

"No, it's OK," I wiped my eyes trying to compose myself, "what is that?" 

"The President's clothes and personal items." 

When Leo came in a while later, he found me wrapped in Jed's suitcoat, my knees drawn under my chin. I was rocking back and forth as if to comfort myself and twisting Jed's wedding band which I had put on my thumb. I couldn't stop shaking. 

"Abbey, Jesus," Leo said, startled. 

"He's going to die, Leo," I said in a flat voice. "I'm going to lose him." 

"No, Abbey. Don't do this to yourself." 

"He promised me, Leo. When I agreed to him running for President, he promised he wouldn't let anything happen. He PROMISED, Leo." 

"He couldn't foresee this, Abbey. You know Jed. He has never believed anything could take him down. Um, I was just out with the staff. Zoey wants to come in." 

"Not now, Leo. I don't want her to see Jed like this." 

"It's probably preferable to the last time she saw him." 

"Well, I don't want her to see ME like this." 

Leo nodded in understanding, and there was a soft knock at the door. Leo moved to answer it. "Abbey, this is Father Cavanaugh. He's here to give Jed last rites." 

"No," I shook my head, coming out of my trance. 

"Abbey," Leo said gently, "you know Jed would want this." 

"LEO, NO. He can't die. PLEASE..." Leo placed his arm around my shoulders. I could see he was uncomfortable with how to deal with me in this state. I NEVER break down in front of other people, even Leo. Only Jed and our family have ever seen me like this. 

"Abigail, you know how important this is to Jed. Please let the priest do his job." I finally consented. As the priest began to anoint Jed and pray, I thought about how they did this when my son died. The bile began to rise in my throat. 

"Leo, I'm going to be sick," I cried and cupped a hand over my mouth as I ran to the bathroom. After violently retching, I rested my head against the cold porcelain. Oh God, I prayed, please don't take him from me. I know I am supposed to accept your will but I'm begging you, don't take my Jed. I re-entered the room a bit shaky and, with Leo's hands on my shoulders, watched the priest finish giving my husband last rites. 

"You know Leo, everyone says I am the strong one standing by Jed. But as I've sat here and thought back over our life I realize that's only because they only know Jed the candidate and Jed the President. Jed the man has always been there strong for me whenever I needed him. It's been like that from the moment he told me he loved me. He's the strongest man I know." 

"That strength is going to get him through this, Abbey. That and his love for you. From the moment he saw you, Jed knew you were the one for him. There has never been a waver in that in all these years. I've always envied him that, that sureness that he is with the person God planned him to be with." 

"Thank you, Leo," I smiled sadly at him. 

"Oh come on, Abbey. You have to know how much that man adores you." 

"I do. But it's nice to know it's not all in my head, that others see it." 

"We all see it, Abbey. Believe me, we ALL see it." 

"Mrs. Bartlet," the nurse said, coming in, "we have a room you can lay down in." 

"No," I said firmly. 

"It's going to be a long night. Why don't you just lay down?. We'll come and get you if the President's status changes." 

"I'm not leaving him." 

"Abbey," Leo said, "why don't..." 

"Leo," I interrupted him, "if he is going to die, it will not be ALONE. He has always been there for me. If it's the last thing I do for my husband, it will be to be with him when he lets go." With that statement, I was left alone with Jed. I took my position back in my chair. I took his hand back in mine and laid my forehead on it, closing my weary eyes. "I'm here, Jed," I murmured softly, "I'm not going anywhere." 

The next morning I awoke stiff and sore while the doctor examined Jed. His vital signs were strong and things were looking better. "He really is a fighter," the doctor stated, "I'm going to see about taking him off the ventilator." 

"So soon?" I said, scared. At least on the ventilator I knew he would keep breathing. 

"The sooner he is breathing on his own again, the better." 

Leo came in and stood with me while they removed the tube from Jed's throat. I would forever be grateful for his support during this. I frowned as Jed began to cough and gag. I knew it was normal but my heart began to pound as I watched him gasping for breath. 

"I'm here, baby," I said, taking his hand again. 

"A...Abbey," Jed choked. 

I smiled. "Sssh," I said, smoothing the hair back from his face. "I'm here. Don't talk." 

"Love...you..." He drifted back off and I stood there biting my bottom lip, tears filling my eyes. 

"I love you too, pumpkin." He was going to be OK. In my heart I now knew that. Josiah Daniel Bartlet had again beaten the odds. Leo had left the room grinning ear to ear to tell everyone the President woke up and spoke. CJ was telling the press his first word was 'Abbey' and I walked out of Jed's room for the first time in 15 hours. My clothes and hair were rumpled, my face pale, dark smudges of exhaustion were under my eyes. Yet, I saw the respect in Jed's staffs' eyes. They saw me as the strong, calm, composed First Lady. Only Leo had seen the real me, the Abbey who had shaken, cried, pleaded, yelled at a priest, and thrown up. The me who had been terrified and lost. Leo had not seen the First Lady at all. He had seen the tears of a wife. 

Chapter 2 

Leo's POV. 

*** 

Goddammit, how the hell did they get to Jed? With all the security he has to put up with ,and yet they still got to him. Shot him right in front of his daughter. I just can't believe my best friend might be dying. Good Lord, how am I going to face Abbey? This is all my fault. I'm the one who convinced him to run for President. Convinced him that even though they didn't think so, the Party needed him. Convinced him the country needed him. Not that I had lied, I knew Jed was the best man for the job even when he didn't. I still do. But was it worth it? One year in office and now this. I knew what Abbey would say, "No Leo. It wasn't worth my husbands life." Abbey, there she is again. Jesus, how can I face her? 

I don't have to wait long. She comes around the corridor, her auburn hair flying behind her as she confronts me, wanting to know how Jed is. I see she is trying to keep herself in control but there is a wild fear lurking in the depths of her beautiful hazel eyes. I don't like seeing that. It scares me. I have to tell her, "It's not good. He was flatlining when he came in." Oh Jesus, I see all the blood leave her face and her legs give way. I catch her but she pulls herself together. We sit quietly for hours just taking comfort in each other's presence. I hold on to her arm while the surgeon talks to her about Jed's condition. 25%. That is Jed's chance of surviving this. I have to believe this is enough. I tell Abbey it is. I tell her that he has beaten worse odds than that but, in my heart, I don't believe even Josiah Bartlet can pull this one out. Abbey leaves me to go to her husband. I go to the waiting room to update the staff. I am the Chief of Staff, I still have a duty. But, my best friend is dying. 

After I do my duty, I stop in the chapel. I may not be as religious as Jed but I still believe in the power of prayer. I try to pray but instead I am flooded with memories. Memories of my friendship with Jed, which started at prep school. Jed likes to tell people he was a nerd but nothing could have been further from the truth. Nobody with Jed's level of self assurance and confidence could be a nerd. Sure he was studious and always had his nose in a book, but, he also had a great sense of humor and an aura of belonging. Of knowing exactly who he was and where he was going. Maybe it was his upbringing, his family that has been rooted in New Hampshire's soil since before the Revolutionary War. 

He was good looking in that New England preppy kind of way. Disheveled blondish brown hair, intense blue eyes, and a uniform of khakis and loafers. The girls were drawn to him despite his studious nature. Still waters run deep and all that. Hell, people were drawn to him. He had a way of entering a room and commanding that room. It's what makes him such a great politician. Everybody mattered to Jed, they still do. There is not a snobbish bone in his body. Well, maybe a little intellectual snobbery, but that is to be expected of a brilliant mind. 

I had the same level of self confidence, but somehow on me it came out as arrogant cockiness. I guess I always did have a bit of a chip on my shoulder. Unlike Jed, I never really felt like I belonged anywhere. I didn't belong in Chicago, an A student in a home where my father was an alcoholic and my mother simply looked the other way. I didn't belong with those rich New England prep school boys. Me, the charity case, who had a scholarship to their elitist club. But I gotta give Jed credit. He was the one person who never treated me like a charity case. We were always equals in his eyes. We still are even though he is the President of the United States and I am his Chief of Staff...Damn that's my beeper. I have to go phone Hoynes. 

When I get off the phone, I know it is time to go see Jed. I enter the room cautiously but my eyes are not drawn to Jed's pale and lifeless form. They are drawn to Abbey, she is sitting, wrapped in Jed's suitcoat, rocking back and forth and just staring into space. I have never seen her like this and it scares the hell out of me. "Abbey...Jesus," I say startled. I don't know what to say. Her voice is soft and almost devoid of emotion when she tells me, "He's going to die, Leo." I try to reassure her and she begins to tell me in this pleading voice I have never heard from her before, that Jed promised her he would never let something like this happen. What can I say? I don't know what to say to this woman who is my best friend's wife. My friend for more years than I care to admit. It's all my fault this is happening to her. She and Jed were happy in New Hampshire. I'm the one who changed all that. 

Abbey gets very upset when the priest comes in to give Jed last rites. She runs from the room and I hear her retching in the bathroom. I have never seen Abbey lose control like this. But, then again, I have never seen her so close to losing Jed. To losing a part of herself. 

Abigail and Josiah, Abbey and Jed, even their names fit together perfectly. The two of them have been inseparable since Jed stole her from Ron Ehrlich all those years ago at Notre Dame. I have never believed in love at first sight but both Jed and Abbey swear that is how it was for them, I do believe them. I didn't go to Notre Dame with them but I do remember the first time Jed introduced me to his gorgeous new girlfriend. With her waist long wavy auburn hair, big hazel eyes, and killer body, she took my breath away. She still does. A part of me has always been half in love with Abigail O'Neill Bartlet. Oh, it's nothing weird or anything. Not like I've been pining away all these years waiting for her to dump Jed and notice me. I married Jenny and we built a life in DC far away from the Bartlets of New Hampshire. We would see them once or twice a year on visits. We never missed the annual week before Christmas Bartlet bonfire and skating party. 

I admit I always felt Jed and Abbey lived in the middle of nowhere but for this time of year it was like something out of Currier and Ives. The hills and fields were covered in snow. Abbey had the old colonial farmhouse dressed to the nines in Christmas finery, wreaths on the doors, white candles in every window. Inside, the halls were really decked with holly. The girls' stockings hung over the fireplace and, of course, Jed had anointed every doorway with a sprig of mistletoe. Jed was in his glory on this day. While Abbey was ever the gracious hostess, it was Jed who was the master of ceremonies. As friends and the girls' classmates arrived, he would take them down to the pond on a sleigh he found at some old estate sale, which was hooked to two of the Bartlets' horses. It was a magical day and evening, one that Mallory looked forward to every year. At the pond, everyone was ice skating to music or standing around the bonfire talking and taking swigs from flasks of hot buttered rum. I remember once finding Jed sitting alone on the bench beside the pond watching Abbey teaching 3 year old Zoey how to skate while Elizabeth and Ellie sped by with their friends. I found it odd that he was alone. Jed was usually the center of attention. I sat next to him and asked him what was wrong. "Nothing's wrong," he said, "this is where I asked Abbey to marry me. I had no idea then that one act would produce so much, this family. I am going to miss them so much when I have to go back to Washington. The life of a congressman." 

"Are you going to run for the Senate? There has been talk," I asked. 

"Nope," Jed said, taking a drag from his cigarette. "When my term is up, I'm going to run for Governor." 

"Senator would be more helpful if you want to run for President some day," I told him. 

"Senator means more years in Washington. Governor means being home with my family." He wasn't looking at me now, he was watching Abbey laughing as she fell with her daughter to the ice. "In the end, that's all that matters, Leo." He stood and walked to the ice helping his wife and daughter to their feet. I knew it in that moment, Jed Bartlet would be a great President because of the very reason that he didn't NEED to be President. 

It's not that I was actively jealous of Jed, more like envious. I would watch the easy way Abbey was with him, the way she would pat his butt while he dried the dishes she had washed, the way she would tease and flirt with him as if they hadn't been married for years, and I would feel that pang. 

On the campaign trail, I saw them together even more. We all witnessed the verbal sparring and arguments but then again, Jed Bartlet needed a strong woman who would not be overpowered by his bigger than life persona. He got that in Abbey. On the other hand, we also all witnessed the sexual electricity between them and the genuine affection. Neither of them is embarrassed to show their love for the other. CJ never had to instruct them to hold hands on the campaign, holding hands was automatic for the two of them. As soon as Jed finished a speech, he was reaching for Abbey. As they walked, his hand was on the small of her back guiding her. Knowing how it troubled him, Abbey would run her hand up and down his back while he talked to voters. In the car, his hand would rest on her knee. This need for contact was all completely unconscious, as natural to them as breathing. 

Since becoming First Lady, Abbey has not lost her femininity or her sexiness. I still remember all those letters we got after the State Dinner when she wore that tight gold gown that revealed the top swells of her breasts. I heard more than one man remark that night what a lucky bastard Jed Bartlet was. I have heard staffers and congressmen discussing the First Lady's shorts skirts, high heels, and the fact that she has incredible legs. One hell of a package as one Senator put it. While I secretly agree with them, I usually shut them up, either out of respect for Abbey, or because Jed might be within earshot. Jed can be a possessive man when it comes to his wife. That is one reason I have never even jokingly referred to my feelings about his Abbey. I know damn well Jed would not find it amusing at all. And Abbey? Abbey would be embarrassed. She would become self conscious around me and lose her spontaneous ways, that is not what I want. I really do love them both. 

The envy of their relationship was not mine alone, Jenny felt it too. How could she not? Despite three kids and two high powered careers, they were able to keep it all together. When I made that statement that effectively ended my marriage, the one where I said at this time my job was more important than my marriage, Jenny was at first stunned. When she regained her composure, she threw it in my face that Jed was the PRESIDENT, which was a hell of a lot more important job than mine, and he NEVER would have said that to Abbey. She was right. I remembered his conversation with me by the pond, I never argued the point. 

When I went to Jed to try to convince him to run for President, and I could see he was swaying to a yes answer, he stopped short. He told me he would have to get a yes from Abbey. If Abbey said no, the answer was no. A commitment to this job would mean a few years. His commitment to her was for life. That is where we differ. If anyone had tried to get me to run for President, I never would have given Jenny the choice. She would either be with me or not. I guess that is why I am divorced and Jed's wife is puking her guts out in terror at the thought of losing him. 

Abbey comes back out of the bathroom pale and trembling, but calmer. I try to get her to go rest but she will not leave Jed. She refuses to allow him to die alone if that is what is to be. God is she strong. I know I can't be there to see that vibrant, energetic man slip away from us. 

I don't see either of them again until morning. I have been up all night with John Hoynes going over security. I am with Abbey when they remove Jed's ventilator. I stand with her while Jed chokes and gasps trying to breath on his own. I watch his blue eyes flicker open. The recognition is there. 

"A...Abbey," he chokes out, and tries to reach her with his hand. 

Yup, same old Jed. I grin, because at that moment, I know Jed is going to be just fine. 

Chapter 3: 

Holy mother of God, I feel like a truck ran me over. If it wouldn't hurt so bad, I would chuckle as I have just used Abbey's standard response to me when I ask her how she feels after she has given birth. Abbey. Is she here? Need I ask? I crack an eye and realize they are all here. Abbey, Elizabeth, Ellie and Zoey. They are all standing or sitting in front of the window. The sunlight is streaming over them turning their various shades of auburn hair into fiery halos. Oh, these beautiful women. My girls. I look further and see my mother and my mother-in-law seated at a small table. They are all here to get me through this just as they have my whole life. Everything I learned about life and love I learned from the women in my life. I read that somewhere or something like that and I know that is true for me. 

My mother, my gaze rests on Emily Flynn Bartlet. She is totally in character, sitting up, back straight, impeccably dressed, betraying no emotion. The Bartlets didn't make it easy for the Irish girl from Boston who captured their son's heart while on vacation on Lake Winnipesaukee. The fact that her father was a politician only added to the disdain. So, when she married into the old New England family, Emily began to out-Bartlet the Bartlets. My mother has impeccable manners, and a lack of betraying emotion. I can't remember the last time my mother told me she loved me. It wasn't in her nature to tuck me in with an 'I love you' as a child. But, she did tuck me in with prayers. The Bartlets did not take away my mother's Catholic faith and that was the way she raised my brother Jon and I. She instilled in us a deep sense of our own Catholicism and an abiding sense of right and wrong. For Emily Bartlet the world is black and white. My trouble with her began when I found the grey areas. I did and do resent not growing up with a feeling of warmth and love from my mother, and I swore when I had children they would never wonder if I loved them. The words would be spoken, the hugs given. No matter how angry I ever got with Abbey or the girls, I never went to sleep without telling them I loved them. I never want them to feel the pain and loneliness I had as a child. In spite of this, I do appreciate the gift of my faith that my mother gave me. It has been a guiding principle in the way that I live my life. It has helped me get through the hard times. As I see my mother sitting at that table, not betraying any emotion, I know it is there all covered up. My mother loves me. 

Abbey's mother, Elizabeth O'Neill. A polar opposite from my mother, Beth O'Neill knows exactly who she is and raised her daughter the same way. Abbey has always felt her mother was born in the wrong era. Born earlier, she would have been an ardent suffragist. Born later, she would have been a civil rights activist. The Catholicism Beth passed on to Abbey is not just the history and tradition of the Church, it is one of social activism. The real need to do our part to better the world. It is why Abbey understands me so well and why she believes in me as a politician. Together we have tried to pass on both traditions to our daughters. Beth supported Abbey's dreams to have a career in medicine, but more importantly, she supported our decision to get married before Abbey had her M.D. and before I had my Ph.D. She didn't berate us for the fact that Abbey was pregnant. In fact, unlike the way my mother was with Abbey, Beth accepted me into her family with open arms. Having had only Abbey and her sister Jane, Beth told me I was the son she never had. I thought it was just a line, I was mistaken. I became Beth's son the day I married Abbey. She taught me that you don't have to give birth to a person to accept them as family. She gave me the hugs a mother gives her child, the hugs I'd missed growing up. I know all the jokes about mother-in-laws but I am proud to call Beth O'Neill 'Mom'. 

Elizabeth Anne. Oh God, Liz, my eldest daughter. We were not ready for you. Abbey and I were just graduating from Notre Dame. I was planning on going for my Ph.D., Abbey was going to medical school. I brought her home to the farm and, on a walk by the pond, I asked her to marry me. We hadn't made love yet, Abbey wanted to wait. But, now that we were engaged, it didn't seem to matter so much. We didn't plan it to happen but this time we couldn't stop. I didn't expect Abbey to be a virgin. Oh, I knew she didn't sleep around but she was so sexy and warm and flirty, and she had dated Ron for a while. I always hated the thought of she and Ron together that way. I told myself I thought she was on the Pill but the truth w,s I don't know in that moment if it would have mattered to me if she was or not. Obviously she was not. That first time we shared our bodies we made Elizabeth, and while I was scared when Abbey told me she was pregnant, I have never regretted it for a moment. We just had to get married sooner than we had planned. It meant Abbey had to put off medical school for a couple years but it enabled her to accompany me to London while I got my Ph.D. from the London School of Economics. God, we were just kids. I remember the awe of watching Abbey's body change. The awe of watching Elizabeth come into the world and holding her for the first time knowing instant love and a surge of protection so strong it nearly brought me to my knees. Elizabeth was the first child to teach me of the unselfishness of parenthood. Her needs consumed Abbey and I. I did my share of the grunt work but I was rewarded by laying in bed beside them while Abbey nursed my daughter and I would think how much I loved these women in my life. 

Then came the first steps, toilet training, the first lost tooth. The way she would scream 'Daddy!!' and race into my arms when I got home from work. The love and exuberance that is Elizabeth Bartlet. Then there was the time she had to get braces and she cried that she was ugly. I comforted her by telling her that she was one of the four most beautiful girls in the world which was a running joke between us. She sniffled and asked who the other three were knowing the answer was always Mommy, Ellie, and baby Zoey. There were her first dates when I would put the fear of God into the young men who came to my door. But, there was one I wasn't there to put the fear of God in. 

Elizabeth was a sophomore at Dartmouth when she went to a frat party and drank a laced drink. She was out of it and one the bastards took advantage of that. Two months later, Liz came to us in tears telling us she was pregnant and she didn't know who the father was. I was so angry at her that at first I couldn't speak. I looked at her in Abbey;s arms and then she looked right back at me with her crystal blue eyes, my eyes, swimming with tears. "I'm so sorry Daddy," she had said, "I know you and Mom warned me about stuff like this. I am so sorry I didn't listen. I'm so sorry I disappointed you. I'm so sorry Daddy," and she began to cry. I joined the two of them on the couch wrapping my arms around them both. 

"You could never disappoint me Liz. I love you. Nothing will ever change that." We spent the whole night talking about her options. Yes, abortion was an option brought up. Abbey even offered to be with her if that was her choice. It was not. Abbey and I offered to adopt the baby and raise it so she could finish college. That was not her choice. In the end, she decided to keep her baby. Abbey and I were overwhelmed by her strength. I remember Abbey saying "I don't know if could have kept a child conceived under those circumstances." I knew she was remembering a dark time in our marriage a few years back and I took her hand. 

Abbey was with Liz in the delivery room while I sat in the waiting room with Ellie and Zoey. This was a new experience for me, I had always been part of the action. 

Anabeth Abigail Bartlet spent her first two years with Abbey and I while Liz finished college. In her senior year she met a grad student named Jason. Jay fell in love with Elizabeth and, just as importantly, he fell in love with Annie. We threw them a big wedding and Jay adopted Annie. They are now both professors at Dartmouth. Elizabeth is so much like her namesake Beth o'Neill. Strong, brave, and courageous. 

Eleanor Emily. Ellie. She sits there so quietly. She was always the quiet one. It is disconcerting at times. It is so easy for me to read Abbey, Liz, and Zoey but I have never really gotten the knack of reading this quiet and shy middle daughter of mine. Ellie carries the traits of Abbey and I that are not so easy to see. My intensity. Abbey's seriousness and need for privacy. She also shares Abbey's smart mouth. While Liz and Zoey will come at me at full volume, blazing with fury or indignation, Ellie uses sarcasm to combat me. Abigail uses both. 

Ellie. I remember when she was born. Abbey and I were finally at a point where we wanted to enlarge our family. Elizabeth was in grade school. I was teaching and Abbey was on staff at Dartmouth Mary Hitchcock. We flushed her birth control pills down the toilet together. After a first trimester miscarriage, Abbey became pregnant with Ellie. Even though she worked at a hospital, Abbey hates them. Still, I was stunned when she came to me with the idea of a home birth. We had just moved into the farmhouse and Abbey liked the idea of giving birth in the bedroom where countless Bartlets had been born. I was against the idea, vehemently against it. It was positively medieval. I wanted Abbey in a hospital surrounded by doctors, nurses, and equipment. It wasn't the first or last argument I lost. So, there I was on a snowy December night walking Abbey up and down the hall as her labor progressed. Her best friend, Dr. Millie, who was supposed to deliver this child, was LATE. I had visions of having to deliver the baby myself and ended up having to sit down with my head between my legs to keep from hyperventilating. Beth had come a week ago to help with Elizabeth. Thank God she was there to calm the poor little girl who had come out of her bedroom in her nightgown to see why Mommy was crying out. I had my hands full trying to help Abbey and keep myself together. I didn't have time to comfort Liz. I hated the pain Abbey was in, I always did. I had urged her to give in and take the drugs with Elizabeth but my wife can be damn stubborn at times. 

When Abbey's water broke and I put her back into bed, I have never felt so scared. I couldn't deliver a baby. I was an Economics professor for Chrissakes. In between contractions, Abbey was able to tell me what to have ready. The scissors, string, mineral oil, receiving blankets, etc. Having something to do kept me focused on something other than Abbey's groans and cries of pain. Then, much to my relief, an apologetic, snowy Millie arrived. The plows hadn't gone down our road and she'd had to leave her car and walk the rest of the way. Millie took charge and I was able to concentrate on Abbey, on trying to help her breath through the awful contractions. Lord, did Ellie take her time getting here. As Abbey moved into transition and she was crying in agony begging me to help her, begging me to make it stop, I cursed at a God that could make my wife go through this hell. And then Millie was calling me down to where she was between Abbey's thighs. I could see the baby's head getting bigger and bigger with every contraction. "Want to deliver your baby, Jed?" Millie asked me. I stared at her horrified."I...I can't," I stammered. "Yes you can. Come here. The baby's head is about to crown." She had me wash my hands and poured some mineral oil on them. She instructed me to rub the oil on Abbey and the baby's head to lubricate the way. "OK," she said, "with the next contraction, Abbey will push. You need to keep your hand on the head and don't let it come out too fast. We don't want her to tear." I blanched at the thought but did as told. Within a few minutes, I caught my daughter's warm wet body as she slid from Abbey into my hands. I cut the cord and brought her up to a crying Abbey. I was in awe yet again that we created this miracle. Eleanor Emily. I'm sure my mother was pissed her name came second but I wanted to honor my older sister who had been killed in a car crash when I was 15. Once Abbey and Ellie were cleaned up, Beth and Elizabeth came in and we all lay cuddled on the bed in front of the fireplace. In spite of my fears this really was a nice peaceful way to have a child. No doctors or nurses constantly coming in to check Abbey or bother our bonding as a family. I still remember Millie's look of pleasure when we asked her to be Ellie's godmother. 

Ellie is so different from me, and lately we seem to have grown apart. Ever since I ran for President. I know she is shy and hates the publicity so I never pushed her to be part of the campaign except for the really big stuff. Lately I have begun to wonder if maybe I should have pushed more. Maybe she feels left out and that is why she doesn't visit as often as I would like. After all, of all my little girls, she was the one who was patient enough to sit through chapter after chapter of the Secret Garden, Little Women, Anne of Green Gables or one of the other many books we had bought for them. We read all the Chronicles of Narnia together the time she had the chicken pox. I miss that. I miss Ellie. If I could get up the strength I would tell her now but I can't seem to stay awake. 

Zoey Patricia. My little spitfire. My fighter. She came too early, this youngest daughter of mine. I stood at Abbey's head stroking her forehead while they took Zoey by C-section. Usually the sight of blood makes me sick but I was so scared I would lose Abbey or our baby that everything else paled by comparison. There would be no cosy family gathering on the bed this time. Instead I watched my tiny daughter fight for her life in an incubator hooked to so many tubes it seemed there must not be a part of her little body that did not hurt. I didn't know what to pray for. I wanted my little girl to live so badly I physically hurt, but I also couldn't stand to see her like this knowing that she must be in pain. I wanted to badly to stop that pain. In the end I prayed for her to have the strength to survive and to endure. It was just as hard if not harder on Abbey. She wanted so badly to cuddle and nurse Zoey as she had Liz and Ellie. She religiously pumped her breasts to keep her milk flowing, determined our daughter would survive. The first time I held Zoey she was still hooked to tubes. She was so fragile, I was terrified I would hurt her. I will never forget the first time Abbey was able to feed her. We had waited so long for this moment. Abbey placed Zoey to her breast and guided her tiny mouth to her nipple. We both held our breath and Zoey began to suckle. Abbey started to cry and I held her hand just watching this amazing sight. Allowing myself to believe for the first time that Zoey would survive. 

I soon stopped thinking of my youngest daughter as fragile. She became a little tomboy. She was fearless. It wasn't long after we taught her to ride her pony that she was riding in shows wanting to take on bigger horses, higher jumps. While all our daughters carry traits of both Abbey and I, I think Zoey is the most like me. She has a fierce temper and often says things that she regrets. But she is also quick to forgive and forget. Zoey doesn't carry a grudge. She believes she knows what is right and what is wrong and if others don't agree with her, then screw them. I hate that I have had to temper some of that in myself because of politics. 

Abigail. What can I say about Dr. Abigail Anne O'Neill Bartlet? My best friend, my partner, my wife, my soulmate, the love of my life. Sexy, classy, tempestuous, flirtatious, gorgeous, elegant, brilliant, and great in bed. Even all that doesn't sum up my Abbey. It was Abbey who brought love and sunshine into my cold life. She taught me that it was OK to tell someone you love them. She was the most breathtakingly lovely woman I had ever seen. She still is. She is so full of passion and compassion. She is also the strongest, most intelligent woman I have ever met. I knew I wanted to marry her right from the start. I never wanted to be apart from her. That is the worst part about being President, the times when we have to be separated. I remember getting down on one knee by the pond and asking Abbey to spend her life with me. How I held my breath not sure what I would do if she said no. What she did say was, "Of course, I'll marry you Josiah. I thought you'd never ask." She lit up my life with that answer and has continued to do so ever since. The first time we were intimate together it was as if we were made to be together. I'd had a few girls, not many, I was only 22 after all. But, those times had been all about sex, I had never made love until Abigail. We have learned all about love, intimacy, and passion together over the years. 

Abbey has given me so many gifts throughout the years, the most important being her love and our three daughters. After witnessing my first birth it was amazing to me that Abbey would do it again and again. She likes to joke that if I'd been the one to have to give birth Elizabeth would be an only child. It's no joke. She is right. Abbey is an amazing mother. She is everything a mother should be, everything my mother wasn't. She is so open and loving that even today the girls are comfortable in her embrace. She was often torn between her career and motherhood. She always took months off when the girls were born and then only worked part time when Ellie and Zoey were little. Still, she worried. She needn't have worried, I think she balanced everything very well. It still amazes me that she could balance a career, motherhood, and being the Governor's wife. It helps that Abbey is centered, the family always came first. It made decisions easy for both of us. 

I remember the time she was supposed to speak at some big medical conference in Atlanta but at the same time we found out Bruin, our big bear of a mutt, needed to be put to sleep. He had cancer and was in severe pain. He was 12 years old. We'd had him longer than Ellie, who was eight at the time. In Ellie's world, Bruin had always existed. We were all devastated but Ellie was especially upset. Abbey cancelled on the convention and sat holding Ellie cuddled to her chest, while our daughter sobbed her heart out. Abbey stayed with that dog while they put him down, I couldn't do it. I know how hard it was for her, I could tell from the strain on her face. We buried Bruin's ashes in the back field and I said a prayer. "You make a good priest daddy," Ellie said. Abbey and I looked at each other and smiled at the private joke. 

Abbey was always totally open and honest with the girls. She always told them they could discuss anything with her. When they were teenagers, I would hear her in the bedroom with them and they would all be giggling over something. Abbey taught them manners but also independence, self-reliance, compassion for others, and to not let others define them, just to be themselves. 

We have made the kind of life and family I dreamed about as a child. A life full of love, laughter, sharing, and yes fighting, but also making up. Abbey and I are both passionate people. Passionate in our beliefs, in our anger, and in our sex life. Even when we are fighting we have great sex. Sometimes it's even better than when we aren't fighting. Sometimes I think we fight just for the hell of it, to give the sex that added edge. 

Toby asked me once, way back at the beginning of the campaign, to be totally candid with him. He needed to know if there were going to be any 'bimbo eruptions', I believe was the term he used. He needed to know if I had ever been unfaithful to Abbey so there would not be any surprises. I have to remember he didn't know us then. I think I pretty much ripped his head off. Me, unfaithful. How fucking ridiculous is that? 

Were there nights when I was lonely in Washington while Abbey was at home with the girls? You bet. Were there times when beautiful women came on to me? You bet. Power is an incredible aphrodisiac and I do have to say I'm not all that bad looking. But, would it be worth it? That was the catch. Would it be worth losing the most beautiful, exciting woman in the world, my best friend, the mother of my children, my whole family, for one night of raising my ego or easing my loneliness? Not a chance. Because I'll tell you there is no way in hell Abbey would stay with me if she ever found out I was screwing around. I know that for a fact because she used almost that same sentence when another politician we knew was caught with his pants down. It would be the ultimate betrayal. I know that. I would never hurt her that way. I would not want to hurt myself that way. Because ultimately that is what would happen. Even if Abbey didn't find out, I would know and that would be enough. The guilt would eat at me. I pledged my love and fidelity to Abigail when I slipped that ring on her finger and I will never break those vows. Why look elsewhere when everything you want or need is right in front of you? Toby understands this now but his ears must have been ringing for days after he asked me that. 

Things were not always perfect. There were hard times, times when we struggled, times when grief could have torn us apart but instead made us stronger. Other than the miscarriages, the most difficult thing we ever had to go through was Abbeys rape. It happened in Boston. She got stuck on an emergency and called to say she was going to spend the night at her sister's apartment, Jane and Pat were gone for the weekend. We had been very busy between work and the girls, and my parents heard me muttering about Abbey staying in the city. They had just stopped over for a visit, but offered to stay with the girls so I could join my wife. I called the hospital to tell her I would be joining her. I remember how she laughed about my mother having Zoey, who had just entered her terrible twos with vengeance, for the whole weekend. 

I was late leaving Manchester and hit commuter traffic on 93 all the way to the city. All the way down I envisioned the romantic, sexy weekend we would share. I was late getting to the apartment and was surprised when the door to the brownstone swung open when I touched it. I walked into the hallway to see Abbey's purse on the floor, its contents spilled, something wasn't right. I called out her name. I heard a muffled scream from the living room, the sound of something breaking. I called her name again and raced toward the closed doors of the living room and a piercing, soul shattering, anguished scream of 'JED!!!!' filled the quiet night. My adrenaline pumping, I kicked open the door. My blood froze. Everything else I remember is through a red haze of rage. My wife lay face down on the floor, her clothes half torn from her body. The bastard was on top of her. Raping her. He held her head up with a fistful of her hair. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her eyes filled with pain. 

I don't remember how I made it across the room but the next thing I knew, I had the son of a bitch off her and slammed him into the wall. I have never felt so overwhelmed with fury in my life. I began to punch him over and over and over. I couldn't stop. I didn't hear Abbey screaming for me to stop, that I was going to kill him. I didn't care. I wanted to kill him. I really think I would have killed him if that cop hadn't pulled me off him. I remember looking down at the bastard. He was unconscious. His face was mangled and bleeding but when I turned to see Abbey trying to pull her torn clothes to cover herself, tears streaming down her face, her lip cut and bleeding, bruises marring her creamy flesh, all I felt was a consuming need to finish the job. To kick his fucking head in for what he did to my wife. It scared me that I had it in me to kill. 

I moved to Abbey and gently took her into my arms. She let go at that point and began to sob. She sobbed as if her heart would break. She sobbed my name over and over. I told her it was OK, everything would be Ok now. But it wouldn't be, at least not for awhile. There was the rape exam, the nightmares, the guilt, and the fears, hers and mine. Abbey was afraid I would never want her again after seeing what the rapist had done to her. "You told me before what a turn on it was that you are the only man who has ever had me," she had cried, "Now that isn't true." 

"It's still true Abbey," I said, lifting her chin to look into her pain filled eyes. "That son of a bitch took you. He did not have you, baby. Only you can give yourself to another." 

"I should have heard him Jed, I should have fought him harder when he shoved me into the apartment. I should not have let him rape me." No matter what I or anyone else said to convince her she had done nothing wrong, she still felt that guilt. 

My guilt came every night when Abbey would wake up screaming in terror and I would hold her for hours trying to calm her. I had not protected my wife. Had I left sooner I would have been there in time, I could have prevented this. I was afraid that Abbey would never get over this. That every time I tried to make love to her she would see her rapist, that she would not be able to bear my touch. 

We both feared that she might get pregnant from the encounter. She wasn't on the Pill because we were trying for one more child. The really awful part was the fact that we had made love that morning. If she was pregnant, we wouldn't know if it was mine or the rapists until she was far enough along for an amniocentesis. We tried not to think or talk about it but when Abbey's period was late, we couldn't help but think about it. I have never been so torn in my life. On the one hand, I was Catholic. It was against my religion to have an abortion even if I was pro-choice. Yet, it made me physically nauseous to think of Abbey pregnant with that son of a bitch's baby. Could I stand there helping her breathe while she delivered another man's child? Could I love the baby because it was part Abbey? Could I look at the child and not see it's father? Could I ask Abbey to carry her rapist's child? Could I ask her to have an abortion? 

We should have spoken to each other about our feelings and fears, but to speak about it would make it real. I found that Abbey shared my fears when I heard her talking to Millie. Millie was informing her that if she were pregnant and that if abortion was the way she was leaning, sooner would be easier on her than later. I will never forget the pain in Abbey's voice. "I could never live with myself if I am pregnant and had an abortion before finding out if it is Jed's or not. I have to wait for the amnio. Oh Millie, I know it's against my faith but how can I carry the baby if it isn't Jed's? Just thinking about it fills me with such anger and hatred. It would kill me so see the disgust in Jed's eyes as I grow bigger. I can't carry another man's child, Millie. I wish I could but I can't," she was crying now and Millie was stroking her arm. "All I can do at this point is pray that Jed made me pregnant that morning before that bastard touched me. Because if it's not his, I am going to abort it." 

I was glad that she had come to the same conclusion but I wondered if she would ever be the same after an abortion. Would I ever be the same? Thank God we never had to find out. Three days later we awoke to the realization that Abbey had started her period. I had never been so happy to have my wife start her menstrual cycle. It had been the stress that had made her late. We cried in each other's arms, tears of relief. 

Would we have gone through with the abortion? I honestly don't know but it was so important that we had the choice. I will always fight for that choice. 

In time we worked through the nightmares, the fear, and the guilt. That which does not kill us makes us stronger. It's no wonder Abbey and I are as strong and solid in our relationship as we are. Through all the joy and all the sorrow, we have never wavered in our commitment to each other. 

Yes, all these beautiful women. How they have shaped me and loved me. It wasn't always easy being the only male in house full of women. I have listened to young girls despair at ever filling out like their mother. I have soothed their broken hearts when a boy dumped them for another girl who put out. I have listened to them flare with anger over men or boys who don't think they can do something because they are girls. I know the female psyche pretty well having read 'girly' books to my daughters since they were little. I have lived with a bathroom crammed with scented bubble baths and lotions, aromatherapy candles, make up, moisturizers, Midol, and tampons. I have lived with all their mood swings, and heard things I have no business hearing because they forget I am in the room, that I am not one of them. 

I know Abbey wishes she had given me a son but I couldn't have had a better life than I have with all my women. At that moment Abigail catches my eye. 

"Jed! You're awake!" She cries 

"Daddy!" 

They all rush to my side. Yes, what more could a man want than the adoration of all these beautiful females? They are all smiling down on me, so happy. How can I tell them? I can't feel my legs. 

Chapter 4: 

Abbey held Jed's hand while the doctor talked to them about what was causing his paralysis. "Abbey, I can't feel my legs. I can't feel anything from my waist down." The fear had snaked it's way down Abbey's spine at those words from her husband. She had calmed him, seeing the scared look his eyes, cleared the room of family members, and went to get the doctor. Now they sat together to hear what was going to come next. 

"It's as I explained to your wife after the surgery," he said. "We had to leave the bullet lodged near your spine. Your condition was too precarious to remove it. I had hoped this wouldn't be a problem but obviously it is. It is putting pressure on your spinal cord, which is why you don't feel anything from the waist down." 

"Well, can't you just take it out now?" Jed asked, his voice still weak and hoarse. 

"It's not that easy, Mr. President. The surgery would be very delicate. Where the bullet is lodged will make it very dangerous to remove. One slip, one wrong move, and we could do more damage than good." 

"What more damage could you do?" Jed asked sarcastically. 

"You could end up paralyzed from the neck down, you could end up on life support, or you could die." 

Abbey swallowed past the lump in her throat. Jed turned away for a moment. He composed himself and turned back. "Without the surgery is there any chance I will get any feeling back below my waist? That I will walk again?" 

"No, sir. Not unless vast medical advancements are made." 

"So, what you're telling me is that if I don't have the surgery, I will never walk again, never make love to my wife again." 

"That's not what I said, sir. You will not walk again and you will not be able to have intercourse but..." Jed interrupted him with a sarcastic look. 

"OK, never be able to have intercourse with my wife again. But, if I have the surgery, I could end up a vegetable, dead, or I could get up and walk out of here fully recovered." 

"Jed," Abbey's heart began to pound erratically knowing where her husband was going with this line of questioning. "Jed, you can't." 

"I need to talk to my wife," Jed said, dismissing the doctor. "I'll let you know my decision." But Abbey knew, the tears in her eyes told Jed she already knew what his decision was. 

"Jed, please. Don't even think about it. Plenty of people live full lives in wheelchairs. They..." 

"They don't have a choice, Abigail. I do." 

"You DON'T, Jed," she flared. "You could DIE!" 

"Abbey, I can't live in a wheelchair knowing I could have done something to walk again." 

"Jed, it will be fine. We'll make the farmhouse wheelchair accessible. We'll..." 

"Dammit, Abbey, I am not going to go through the rest of my life not being able to make love to you." 

"Fuck me, you mean," she said bitterly. 

"Same thing." 

"No, it isn't, Jed, and you know that. God, do you think that's all that matters to me? That it matters to me at all when it comes to your life? We've been creative before. There are other ways, when I was pregnant..." 

"Yes," he interrupted, "when it was foreplay. When we knew it was only for a certain time period. When we knew it wasn't over FOREVER. Do you think I could stand to look at you knowing what you need and knowing I can't give it to you?" 

"I only need you, Jed. Just you alive and with me." He saw the tear trickle down her cheek and his tone softened. 

"Abigail," he said quietly. "Come here," he took her hand and pulled her down to the bed, forcing her to look him in the eye. Those beautiful baby blue eyes now filled with tears. "We don't know what is going to happen with the MS. I could still end up in a wheelchair and, if that was my only choice, I would learn to live with it. But, I have a choice now, Abigail." Abbey stood, got light headed, and sat back down. "Abbey? Are you all right?" 

"Jed I...Jed," she stammered. 

"Abbey, what is it?" 

"Nothing," she lied, "it's nothing Jed." 

"Abigail, don't lie to me. Something is wrong and it's not my legs." 

"Jed, I just can't...," she covered her lips with her fingers. 

"Baby, don't you know by now you can tell me anything. You're scaring the hell out of me, Abbey. Tell me what's wrong." 

"Please Jed, don't do this. Don't have that surgery. I...I'm...Oh Jesus Jed, I'm pregnant." 

"What?" Jed said, completely stunned. "Did you just say..." 

"I'm pregnant. Almost three months. The G7 summit. I'm sorry. I just didn't know how to tell you," she looked up at him with wet eyes and lashes. 

"I TOLD you," he said angrily. "I tried to..." 

"I know. I know. It's all my fault, just please don't yell at me, my nerves just can't take that right now." 

"It's not a fault, Abbey," he said more gently now. "It's a baby. Our baby." 

"You're not angry?" 

"I could never be angry about a baby. I'm scared. I'm scared about you. About..." 

"About us losing another baby," she said softly, stroking his cheek. 

"Yes," he said simply. 

"Me too," she admitted. "But I'm more scared of this. I can't go through this pregnancy alone. Jed, I can't raise this baby alone. Don't you want to meet your son? Or daughter? Maybe the odds will be with us. Jed, I can't lose you. I have been sitting in this hospital for days now wondering if you would live or die, and now you are telling me I'm going to have to go through all that again. I can't lose you." 

"You won't, baby. But you might if I don't do this. If I shrivel up in a wheelchair, filled with bitterness over not having tried everything I could try to get on my feet. I want to walk out of this hospital. I want to stand up in front of Congress to give my State of the Union, I want to dance with you at State Dinners, I want to hold your arm, and walk you and our new baby out of the hospital. Please Abbey. Please, I need you with me." 

"I'm always with you Jed. Always. Even when you make a decision that may destroy me," she kissed his forehead sadly, and defeated, she turned to leave the room. 

Jed lay back and closed his eyes. A baby. He was going to be a father again. This was totally unexpected. He should be angry. He had said no more babies, but, Abbey had looked so miserable and she had been through so much the past couple of days. It wasn't that he hadn't wanted more children, he wouldn't have minded half a dozen. He was afraid of the danger, not only to his wife's body, but to her emotional well being should something happen to this baby. The G7 summit was it? He couldn't help but smile at the memory of this child's conception. 

It was a week before the summit. I entered the residence to change for the dinner party Abbey and I were giving that evening. Abbey was sitting at her vanity applying make up in her short black silk slip. Damn Abbey, I thought, I only have a few minutes to get ready and you know what seeing you in black silk does to me. 

"Jed, is that you?" She asks while applying mascara. 

"You're sitting dressed like that and you calmly ask if it's me," I growled. "What if it wasn't me?" 

"I'm not naked," she teased me, shrugging a shoulder. "Hurry up," she admonished me. "We only have a few minutes." I began to unbutton my shirt. "Jed, what do you think about India?" 

"As a country?" I ask, puzzled. 

"I mean, would you like to go to India?" She applied her lipstick, smoothing her lips together. Jesus Abbey, what you do to me. I feel myself hardening knowing exactly what those lips can do to me. "Am I going to India?" I ask inanely. All the blood has left my brain. 

"Are you trying to be obtuse?" She asked applying perfume to the pulse points on her wrists and throat. She knows exactly what she is doing to me, and that makes it all the more erotic. "I am asking if you would like to go to India with me?" 

"I'd love to go to India with you. I'll go anywhere with you, baby, especially if you cancel the dinner party tonight." She turns and looks at me at that point. She raises an eyebrow as her gaze centers on my waist. 

"I think you might want to lose that before we go out and dine with your cabinet members." 

"Care to help me with that?" 

"India is not on your agenda, Jed," she says, ignoring me. "It is on mine." 

"Well then, I guess I can't." 

"Yes, you can, Jed," she says, standing to raise one of her legs on the bed to pull on her stockings. "You are the boss. They have me leaving early to go to India to give a speech and visit the Taj Mahal before joining you at the summit in Japan." 

"Is that a problem?" I ask, my throat dry. She isn't helping to take care of my problem at all. 

"Yes, it is," she said, attaching her stocking to her garter. "I have seen pictures of Jackie Kennedy with her sister, and Princess Diana by herself at the Taj Mahal. This is a temple built to honor love and these were two women loved by millions, but not enough by their husbands to accompany them. Those pictures were sad. I don't want to be one of them." She has moved closer to me, I smell her shampoo, her perfume, the scent that is uniquely Abbey. Her hand moved to help me unbutton my shirt. 

"What do...you want...me...to do?" I breath. 

"I want you to come with me. I want to experience that temple with you. To be the one to have my picture taken with my husband." 

"I'll see what I can do." 

"Jed," she said seductively, and she slipped her hand into my pants causing me to groan. "Remember, you're the boss." 

"You're a wicked woman, Abigail Bartlet," I gasped as she began to stroke. 

"I just know how to get what I want," she smiled up at me. 

"That you do, babe, that you do." 

So, there I was in a hotel in India. I could hear my wife cursing in the bathroom. 

"Abbey, what's wrong?" 

"I forgot to pack my birth control pills." 

"Abbey," I said, exasperated. "I fly halfway across the world to be with you at the shrine to love, and you forget your pills." 

"It is the shrine to love, Jed, not the shrine to sex," she snapped. "What are we going to do?" 

"Well Abbey, I can hardly walk out to the local drugstore and buy some condoms. Wouldn't the press have a field day with that?" 

"I am aware of that, Jed. Oh never mind, we have to go. We'll just have to forget about sex." 

"This vacation sucks," I sulked and she glared at me as we left to go visit the great temple to love. 

It really was magnificent and Abbey and I were both moved by it's beauty. We posed for the pictures, which the press ate up. When we got back to the States, Abbey got two 8X10's of the photo used on the cover of Time and many other newspapers. It showed the two of us standing in front of the Taj Mahal, I had taken off my suitcoat due to the heat and was in my shirtsleeves and Abbey wore a soft qauzy white sundress, her auburn hair loose and curling at her shoulders. I had the back of her hand pressed to my lips, and she was smiling softly at me. It is on both her office desk and my desk in the Oval Office. After a romantic dinner at a local Indian restaurant where my stunning wife had a bit too much wine, considering she didn't eat much of the food since she found it too spicy, we went back to the hotel. Abbey was tipsy and, when Abbey is tipsy, she can be quite amorous. What is a man to do when his wife is running her fingernails lightly over his back, her lips kissing his chest? 

"Abbey we can't...Remember?" Her response was to latch on to my nipple, nipping it with her teeth. I was lost. My body was on fire and my only thought was to show through actions how much I really did love my wife. Soon I was making love to her, Abbey was whimpering beneath me, her nails digging into my back as and I had one last coherent thought. "Abbey, I'm gonna come..." I tried to withdraw from her body but she wrapped her legs tightly around my waist and held me inside her while I spilled everything I am into her. She lay wrapped in my arms, her head on my chest. When I was sure she was sleeping, I slipped on my boxers and went out onto the secluded balcony to smoke a cigarette. A few minutes later I felt Abbey's arms wrap around my waist from behind, her lips pressed into the back of my neck. 

"Josiah Bartlet, are you out here smoking?" She admonished me. 

"Isn't that what you do after great sex?" I smiled pulling her around to face me. 

"Jed, it was one time. At my age one time is probably not going to create any problems." God, that woman can read me like a book. But she was wrong. I found that out today. Well it is nice to know that she can be wrong sometimes too. I just hope that my decision isn't wrong. Is it selfish of me to want this for myself when I could be leaving her alone to deal with the repercussions of that night in India? I pray I am making the right decision. 

"From the look on your face, I assume you have spoken with my wife," Jed said as a somber Leo entered his room. 

"We spoke." 

"And she asked you to come in here and convince me to do things her way." 

"No, sir. She told me the options. In my opinion, she is right. Why take the chance?" 

"Leo, stand here as one of my best friends. I have already gotten the opinion of my other best friend. We're just Leo and Jed here." 

"As one of your best friends, I ask you why take the chance?" 

"Because there is a chance, Leo. If I don't take this chance, I will always wonder. What if I could be walking to the podium to speak, what if I could be walking Ellie or Zoey down the aisle, what if I could be dancing with my wife, and..." 

"And what if you could be having sex with your wife? That's a big issue isn't it?" 

"Hell yes. Shouldn't it be? I can't believe Abbey talked to you about this." 

"She didn't. I put myself in your spot and I know that's what I'd be thinking. But there are other ways," Leo said uncomfortably. He and Jed rarely delved into this sort of conversation. Not since they were teenagers talking about getting laid. 

"Yeah," Jed rolled his eyes. "I know all about those ways. And yeah, I know it works, but most times," his voice began to rise, "most times do you know what I hear?...Do you Leo?...I hear my wife begging me to come inside her, and if I do nothing, I won't be able to comply with that." 

"She doesn't care, Jed. She wants you alive." 

"Of course she cares, Leo. Maybe not now because she's scared. But she will care. Mark my words. I just wish I could get through to her. It's not just the sex. It's everything." 

"You didn't see her, Jed. While you were in surgery, while she thought you were dying. I've never seen Abbey like that." 

"It's her worst nightmare," Jed closed his eyes knowing what pain his wife had been in. "During the campaign, when we were in California somewhere, I went into our hotel room to find Abbey all curled up in the chair just staring at the TV in tears. It was that mini-series 'Kennedy'. Jackie Kennedy was standing there in that pink suit covered in blood. I knelt in front of her and she begged me not to let anything like that happen to me. She begged me, Leo, and I promised her I wouldn't." 

"She told me." 

"I am a jackass. Why the hell did I make a stupid promise like that?" 

"Because you thought you were invincible. Because you wanted to comfort your wife." 

"Well, I've done a hell of a job. She's pregnant, Leo." 

"What?" 

"She's pregnant. Almost three months." 

"God. That's why she's been sick. I thought it was just the fear." 

"Nope. Leo, I'm having the surgery. If anything happens to me in the surgery, promise me you'll be there for her. Help her. Help my girls. Help my new child." 

"You know you don't have to ask." 

"I know," Jed placed his hand over Leo's. "Hey, don't let Hoynes get too comfortable in my office." 

"I won't," Leo chuckled. At that moment Abbey entered with the nurses who would be prepping Jed for surgery. Leo quietly left the room. Abbey sat silently while Jed was prepped. She said nothing until they were about to wheel him away. Then, she moved toward the stretcher and brushed the dark blond hair back from his forehead. A move that she had performed on his unruly hair a thousand times, that now took on such heavy significance, as she wondered if it might be the last time. 

"I love you, Josiah Bartlet," she said, blinking back tears. "You come back to me." 

"I love you too, Abigail Bartlet, and you just try and keep me away." 

Chapter 5: 

The private waiting room was filled with a select few who were awaiting news on the President's surgery. His wife, his daughters, his best friend, and his mother. His staff was in and out, but they also had to help the Vice President in this time of upheaval. 

Emily Bartlet looked at her daughter-in-law, who was curled up on the couch, a pillow drawn to her chest. She was just staring into space. She won't break down in front of me, Emily thought, she won't give me the satisfaction of seeing her weak. I am the one who made her this way with me. Had I welcomed her into the family with open arms she would have walked right into them. I have watched her with Josiah and the girls for so many years now. There is such love and warmth in her but I saw her as a rival, the woman who destroyed my dreams of the priesthood for Josiah. The woman who became more important in his heart than me. 

I watched her become the kind of wife and mother I wish I'd been able to be. Abigail has never hidden her emotions, well, except for weakness, at least she has never shown me that. I know there is a hidden vulnerability to her, but I also know that only those really close to her have seen that. I am not close to her. We are so different, she and I. Abigail has never been shy about telling Josiah she loves him, even if it is in front of others, how he must relish that in his wife. God knows he never heard it from John or me. Their affection and intimacy has embarrassed me at times. But to be perfectly honest, some of that was envy at the closeness they share. 

Even after ten years of marriage I would see them at the beach house in Maine, after the girls were tucked in, dancing in the moonlight to music only they could hear. Even now, after all these years, they still flirt with each other and get caught in embraces. My tongue has been sharp with them about this at times. One of the first real arguments I ever had with Abigail was sexual in nature. 

John and I were visiting them in London for Elizabeth's christening. It had been a long day and I laid down in the bedroom to try to get rid of my migraine. My stomach became upset and I went over to Josiah and Abigail's bathroom to find something to settle it. I opened the medicine cabinet and there was the round package with the prescription for Abigail Bartlet. I may never have used them but I knew what they were. The Pill. My CATHOLIC daughter-in-law was on the Pill. I confronted her when she came to check on me. I still remember that argument as if it were yesterday. 

"You are supposed to a good Catholic wife. You just sat in church having your daughter christened. Why are you on the Pill?" 

"Emily, I love my faith but there are some things in the Church that Jed and I disagree with. Contraception is one of them. Elizabeth is only three months old. I'll be starting medical school when we move back to the States, I can't get pregnant again now." 

"There are other methods," I said, embarrassed. 

"Oh yes," Abbey said sarcastically. "The Rhythm method, Catholic birth control. They have a name for people who use that method." 

"Really?" 

"Yes. They are called parents." Oh, she has a smart mouth that one. "Emily, Jed and I want to have more children. Just not now." 

"Well," I sniffed, "you could abstain." Abigail burst into laughter. 

"Why don't you discuss that with your son and let me know what he has to say about that?" 

"What I have to say about what?" Josiah asked entering the room. 

"Your mother is angry we are using birth control. She thinks we should abstain." 

"Holy mother of God," Jed groaned, rolling his eyes. "Don't you dare give her any ideas, Mother. She didn't throw them out, did she?" 

"No pumpkin, they are safe." 

"Josiah," I say my arms crossed over my chest, disapproval clear on my face "You know it is against the Church." 

"Oh, sorry to interrupt, Mother," Josiah said, "but I think I hear Elizabeth crying. I'll go get her," he hurried away and I heard Abigail mutter, "Coward," under her breath. 

"Tell me Emily," Abigail said on the offensive now, "if you didn't use any birth control, how did you end up with only three kids?" 

"There were complications with Josiah's birth and I had to have a hysterectomy." 

"Oh, Emily. I'm sorry," she said, compassion replacing the sarcasm in her voice. But I had closed off, I didn't want pity, I didn't want her comfort. 

Evidently I was ignored and they continued their use. The way those two were, had they not, I might have had a dozen grandchildren. 

When I look at my three granddaughters, I realize how lucky they are to have Abigail as a mother. I wish I could open my arms to my children the way Abigail does. I know they are all grown now but I so regret the way I was with them as children. 

Josiah was such an earnest little boy. He was just adorable, with his tousled fair hair and big blue eyes. My heart aches at how much he tried to please John and I. But, most of the time he couldn't please one of us without displeasing the other. He tried so hard, and yet we never told him it was enough. We never told him just how proud we were of him and how much we loved him. He had to wait until he was in college and had met Abigail before hearing those words. It still amazes me how easy it is for the two of them to say those three words that elude me,"I love you." How simple, and yet so hard. 

I am not a stupid woman. I know one of my biggest problems with Abigail is jealousy. I had to struggle so hard to fit in to the Bartlet family. Truth be told I may have fallen in love with the idea of marrying into this old New England family as much, if not more, than I did falling in love with John Bartlet. I was the Boston Irish girl marrying into a family that came over on the Mayflower. I know John's family was against our marriage. But, for once in his life, he showed some spirit and defied them. Sometimes I think that is the only reason he married me. To defy his father. Old Josiah liked to run his family with an iron fist and marrying me had been John's one act of defiance. 

John and I were not close like Josiah and Abigail, we got married for all the wrong reasons. But, I did try so hard to be the perfect Bartlet wife, to be the perfect headmaster's wife. The Academy always came first with John, before me and before his children. Josiah's intellect comes from John, but, he is not the cool emotionally detached man his father was. In fact, Josiah gets his charm, his talent in spinning a good yarn, his ability to electrify a crowd, and his vitality and passion for life from my side of the family. Those boisterous Irish relatives I tried to keep my children steered clear of. Josiah loved visiting my parents and his uncles but we didn't do it often. I tried to convince Josiah to take his passion for helping people and become a priest. But, Abigail entered the picture, and it became apparent that although he was a devoted Catholic, the priesthood was not for him. Politics was in his blood, even a stint as and economics professor could not dilute that. 

Funny, Abigail never had trouble fitting in. I don't think that woman has ever felt inferior to anyone. She is just as comfortable in scrubs saving peoples lives, as she is in glittering ballgowns hostessing state dinners, or in jeans mucking out the stalls at home, playing farmer Jed's wife as she calls it. I think this comes from being comfortable in your own skin. Abigail is, Josiah is, I am not. 

Abigail was able to bring John out of his shell and make him laugh, which was something very few people could do. Even Josiah was uncomfortable around his father, Abigail never was. It was me that caused her discomfort. 

And Old Josiah. That crotchety old man who terrified me loved Abigail. She actually had the nerve to refer to him as OJ. They teased each other mercilessly. I remember overhearing Old Josiah talking to his grandson, "You got yourself one hell of a spitfire there Jed. Hell, if I were forty years younger, I'd give you a run for your money and steal Abbey right out from under your nose". 

"I believe you would Granddad," Josiah had laughed. The three of them could argue politics for hours, for while Josiah and Abigail were earnest Democrats, Old Josiah was a staunch Republican. They all seemed to enjoy the sparring and the intellectual challenge it imposed. In the end, his grandson was the only Democrat Old Josiah ever voted for. Even then it was done grudgingly, but I know how thrilled he was to have his grandson Governor of the state he loved so much. He didn't live to see him become President. When Abigail spoke at the funeral I realized she really had a genuine affection for the old man, she wasn't just trying to fit in. 

I know Abigail has had some difficult moments, very difficult moments. But I am jealous at the ease she had in becoming a Bartlet. She didn't even try. Maybe that was my problem, maybe I tried too hard. 

And so here we are, falling into a familiar pattern, sitting on opposite sides of the room when we should be comforting each other. 

I am not a completely cold woman. I wanted to reach out to her once but I felt so guilty I couldn't. I know Josiah has never forgiven me for not comforting Abigail when they lost Peter. She needed a mother's comfort and I was not there for her. 

They were visiting John and I with the girls. Abigail was around five months pregnant. She hadn't been feeling well so she went upstairs to our bedroom to lay down. I heard her scream out Josiah's name and then I saw him come running down the stairs, pale as a ghost, shouting for us to call an ambulance, that Abigail was losing the baby. While John called, I went back upstairs with Josiah. There was so much blood and Abigail was in so much pain. She was scared and pleading with Josiah not to let her lose the baby. Josiah was trying to comfort her and keep her calm but I could see how frightened he was. 

Later, at the hospital, Josiah came out of Abigail's room, exhausted and in tears, to tell us Abigail had miscarried and that it had been a boy. He told me they had given her a sedative but that I could go in and sit with her while he talked to the girls. I never went in, I couldn't. I know Abigail thought I was angry with her for losing my grandson, that wasn't it at all. It was my guilt that kept me away. 

When Josiah and Abigail told me they were pregnant again I was thrilled. For the first time in all Abigail's pregnancies I had prayed she would have a boy. It was the first time I had not just prayed for a healthy grandchild, I had asked God for a boy. Now I felt that God was punishing me for that. I left the hospital and went to confession. I returned to the hospital ready to ask Abigail for her forgiveness, but Josiah met me in the hall. 

"How is Abigail?" I asked. 

"The sedative took over. She is asleep. Where have you been, Mother?" He asked coldly. 

"I..well..I," I stammered. 

"Never mind. I don't care. I know you and Abbey are not close but she needed you today. Couldn't you have just sat with her and held her hand? My God Mother, we just lost our son. I've always known you were a cold woman but I never realized you could be cruel." Until I die, I will never forget those words or the icy disdain in my son's blue eyes. 

I look at Abigail now. She looks utterly wiped out. She is trying so hard to be strong for everyone. The dark smudges under her eyes attest to the fact that she has not slept in days. The truth of the matter is, she has become a shadow of her former vibrant self. I fear what will happen to her if Josiah doesn't pull through. 

He has to pull through. I am sure that Abigail told Josiah she loved him before the surgery. I didn't, I wish I had. At least she won't have that hanging over her head the way I will if something happens. I should have told him I love him. He is my son, my baby. I never thought he could be taken from me this way. God, I thought, I believed in you with all my heart. How could you let my son be torn apart by bullets? You already took Eleanor. You can't be so cruel as to make me outlive another one of my children. I am so sorry. If you let Josiah live, I will tell him that I love him, I promise. 

**** 

We are all quiet. So quiet. All lost in our private thoughts, private memories of Jed, Abbey thought, I can't afford to dwell on the past. If I do I will lose this tenuous control I have over myself. I try to stay focused on the future, planning Jed's rehabilitation because if I think of the alternatives, it will make me crazy. There is some commotion outside the door and then my mother and my sister Jane come in. My mother is back. Oh God, I feel myself tearing up, I am going to lose it. Oh please don't let me lose it in front of my daughters, in front of Emily. Oh Mama help me, I think, and then I am on my feet racing into her arms. 

"Mama," I cry as I feel her arms encircle me. Suddenly I am ten years old again, begging my mother to make everything Ok. "I'm so glad you came back." 

"Sssh...ssh baby," Mom is stroking my hair and it feels so good to just let it out. I have been wound up so tight trying to be the strong one. It is a relief to let go and let myself be comforted. "He'll be OK, sweetheart." 

"You don't know that," I say angrily. "He could die or he could end up on life support. He has a living will. I will have to tell them to pull the plug. I don't think I can handle this, Mama," my hands cover my eyes as I fight a losing battle with my fears and my tears. 

"Abigail, don't think the worse." 

"I could have lived with him in a wheelchair. At least he'd be alive. He is so damned stubborn. Why did he have to take this chance?" 

"Because there is a chance for him to be whole again." 

"And the rest of us be damned," I sniffed bitterly 

"No, Abbey. Good Lord, that man loves you more than he loves his own life." 

"Well, doesn't he know that is how I feel? I just want him alive and arguing with me or spouting off some stupid trivia, just being a jackass about something. None of this was supposed to happen, Mama. Just over 48 hours ago I kissed my husband good-bye and went to bed because I wasn't feeling well. When I was awakened a couple hours later with the news that he had been shot, my whole world was turned upside down. Here we are just over two days later and Jed is still fighting for his life. This is some damned NIGHTMARE!" I begin to cry again taking comfort from the only person, other than Jed, who can make me feel safe. 

"Momma," Ellie says softly, and I turn to see the tear stained faces of my daughters. Oh God, I forgot they were here. These three magnificent girls Jed and I created. I see that they are scared now. They know they may lose their father. 

"I'm sorry babies. I didn't mean to let go like that. I wish I could save him for you," I opened my arms and the three girls rushed in, wrapping me in a circle of arms. 

"We're going to help you Mommy," Zoey said. "Please let us help you." 

"We're going to get through this. TOGETHER," Elizabeth said firmly. 

I look over my daughters' shoulders and see my mother-in-law in the corner, rosary in hand. She looks so alone, while I am surrounded by love. I gently shrug out of my daughters' arms and take a step toward Emily. I open my arms, biting my bottom lip, as I await her reaction. Will she reject my overture? She looks at me for a long moment then gets to her feet. Slowly, very slowly, she makes her way to me and stops in front of me. 

"I know how much you love him Abigail," she says simply. "I've always known. You are a wonderful wife and mother." And with those words she allowed herself to be comforted in my embrace for the first time since I met her. 

*** 

This is so unfair, Elizabeth was thinking, my dad has never hurt anyone in his life. I can't believe somebody shot him. The fact that anyone would want to hurt my father is just beyond my capacity for belief. I just can't believe that he may be gone from my life. I am not ready to lose my father. It is not his time. It can't be. He has been such an overwhelming presence in my life that to have him gone,especially in this violent way, will be a void I could never fill. 

This is a man who lived for his family. I think back on my first trip to Storyland. A trip I was to take many times as my sisters came along. I had been bursting with excitement to go for weeks. I must have been around 7 because Ellie was a baby. 

I remember how big Daddy seemed leading me up the narrow staircase of the three bears house. How he sat on papa bear's bed, Mommy sat on Mama bear's bed with baby Ellie in her frontpack, and I sat on baby bear's bed, and Daddy recited the whole story of the Three Bears from memory. I liked it best when he did the voices. I liked the way Mommy would roll her eyes when he did a high pitched falsetto Mama bear. It made me giggle every time. 

But, what I really remember, is the main reason I wanted to go to Storyland in the first place. The pumpkin coach ride to Cinderella's castle and meeting my heroine. I dutifully, and with enjoyment, visited Red Riding Hoods grandmothers house, fed the Three Little Pigs and the Billy Goats Gruff, and rode on Alice's teacups, but I was brimming with excitement when I saw the castle on the hill. But, as we got in line for the coach ride up, Ellie began to fuss. Mommy said she was hungry and she would have to find somewhere to feed her. Daddy must have seen how disappointed I was to have to wait while Ellie nursed so he told Mommy he would take me up himself and she could meet us up there. I remember bouncing from foot to foot, unable to stand still. Daddy's big hand held mine so I wouldn't race up ahead. Finally the pumpkin coach came. Daddy squeezed himself in and I sat on his lap peering out the window for the first glimpse of the castle. 

When we got out and Cinderella was waiting there to greet us, I was suddenly stricken with shyness. While other kids moved forward to shake her hand and have their pictures taken, I held back. Daddy would have none of that. I remember how he took my hand and urged me forward. 

"Hello Miss Cinderella," he said,"this is Elizabeth Bartlet. Elizabeth, this is Cinderella." I felt so grown up and important. Cinderella shook my hand and Daddy took my picture. My father has always had the ability to make me feel like the most important person in the world. 

This is a man who took me deep sea fishing, and built sandcastles with me the summers we spent at the beach in Maine. The man who kneeled beside me while I said my prayers at night before bed. This is the man who taught me how to swim and how to drive. This is the man I entrusted to take care of my daughter when I could not. 

Oh please God don't take my father away. 

***** 

Oh Daddy, please don't leave me, Ellie was thinking. I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I am I wasn't around more during the campaign. I just hate all that. All those people only wanting to shake my hand because I am Jed Bartlet's daughter. It's not like I did anything to accomplish that. I was simply born a Bartlet. 

Even though I sometimes feel like the odd one out I know all I have to do is call and he would come running. That was never more apparent to me then when I got my first period. Mom was at the hospital on an emergency and Liz was sleeping at a friend's house. Daddy was downstairs cooking supper for us. I could hear his baritone voice singing with Zoey while he cooked. I went into the bathroom and saw the tell tale signs. I was mortified. Mom had explained it all to me a while back, both she and Liz were 13 when they started, so I wasn't shocked. But, I needed supplies. I certainly couldn't ask Daddy to get them. I waited in that bathroom for half an hour wondering if I would just wait here all night until Mom got home. 

Daddy became impatient after calling me down to dinner three or four times and he came knocking on the bathroom door. 

"Ellie, are you alright? You've been in there an awfully long time," he said. 

"I'm OK, Dad," I responded. Oh God, I thought, this is not happening to me. Please let me crawl under the carpet and die. 

"Well, are you coming down to dinner?" 

"I...I can't," I stammered, about to burst into tears. 

"Eleanor Bartlet, tell me what is wrong this instant," he said in that authoritative voice that brooked no nonsense. I opened the door a crack and peered out at him with tears in my eyes. 

"I...I started my period," I said, too embarrassed to look up at him. I couldn't believe I actually said it. 

"Ellie," he said more gently now. "This is your first time, isn't it?" 

"Yes," I whispered miserably 

"Oh honey," he said, lifting my chin to look in my eyes. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. This is a natural part of life. When..." 

"Daddy," I said, interrupting him, knowing he was ready to go on some rambling explanation. "Mom explained it all to me when I turned 10." 

"Oh, well then. What is the problem?" 

"I don't have any...I need the stuff." 

"Oh...OH," he said, turning red. "Let me see what I can find." I watched him go into his and Mom's bathroom and saw him toss her boxes back under the sink. He found what I needed in Elizabeth's room and handed me the box. 

"Do you need any aspirin?" He cleared his throat, now clearly embarrassed. "Do you have a headache, or cramps?" 

"No," I said, equally embarrassed. "I'm fine. I'll be down to dinner in a minute." 

After dinner Daddy dropped Zoey off to be baby-sat by Mrs. Landingham and he took me out for an ice cream sundae. Mom had celebrated Liz becoming a woman in the same way, Daddy was keeping up the tradition. We didn't talk about it like I'm sure Mom and Liz had. We talked about school and about field hockey tryouts but it made me feel special just the same. 

Later, not long after I went to bed, Mom came into my room and crawled into bed next to me. She began to stroke my hair. 

"Daddy told me you started your period tonight," she said. "I'm really sorry I wasn't here sweetie. Do you have any questions? Do you need anything?" 

"No I'm OK, Momma. Daddy took care of me." 

That's the way it has always been. Daddy has always taken care of me. This is the man who read me stories at bedtime, who cheered too loudly at my field hockey games, who helped me study for my SAT's. Even when I don't see him I know he is only a phone call away. What if I can't make that phone call again? What if he is gone? 

Please God don't take my father away. 

**** 

God, there was so much blood, Zoey was thinking. When the service pushed Daddy into the limo I knew something was terribly wrong right away. Daddy just fell against the seat like a limp rag. His eyes were open but there was blood coming out of his mouth. He was choking on it. He said my name and I told him I was OK. Then he said Mom's name twice and said he was cold before losing consciousness. I am not just the President's daughter, I am a doctor's daughter. My Daddy was cold. It meant he was dying. Ron was trying to stop the bleeding and I just started crying out "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" CJ was holding me tightly trying to comfort me and hold me back at the same time. She was crying too, I know she thought the same thing I did, that my Dad was dead. 

He can't die, my Dad cannot die. He has always been there for me. I've always been his baby. My Dad makes me feel safe and protected. I am so scared I may lose that. 

I have so many memories of my Dad. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to flashes of lightning and booming thunder. My heart would begin to pound as the terror filled me. I would grab my teddy bear, Mr. Fuzzy, and run down the hall to Mommy and Daddy's room. I would crawl up into their big bed. Mommy was usually sleeping curled up against Daddy using his chest as a pillow or Daddy would be laying wrapped around Mom from behind. In any case they always had to break apart to make room for me. There were sleepy murmurs as they asked who it was and what was wrong, and I would snuggle into the warmth of their bodies feeling my terror dissipate. 

"It's OK Zoey," Daddy would whisper as he stroked my back. "You're safe sweetheart. Go to sleep." 

Then, there were the summers when he would take us all camping in the National Parks. He isn't exaggerating when he says he has been to them all. Liz, Ellie, and I would share a tent as did Mom and Dad. We would all sit around the campfire late into the night, Mom would tell us scary ghost stories and then Dad would start in with the history of whatever park we were in. Sometimes it was interesting, most of the time it was boring and I would fall asleep. But it was so comforting just to hear his deep voice drone into the night. Then he would pick me up and tuck me into my sleeping bag. Some nights, after all three of us were tucked in, I would peer out and see Mom and Dad still sitting facing the fire. Mom would sit between Dad's legs, his arms were wrapped around her, his chin resting on the top of her head as they stared into the fire. A feeling of safety and contentment would fill me at the evidence of their togetherness. I am scared of losing this. I am scared that if I lose my father I will lose my mother too. It is hard to think of one without the other. They are both incredibly strong people but they both depend on each other so much. 

My father is the man who held the reins while I learned how to ride my first pony. He is the man who carted me around to horse shows all over New England and held me in his arms in the ambulance when I fell at a show and broke my arm. He played tea party with me and fished with me in the pond at our farm. I need my Dad. 

Please, God, don't take my father away. 

~~~~~~~~~ 

The room has filled even more. Jed's brother Jon and his wife Sally are here. I feel sort of superfluous. I thought about staying back at the White House with Dad and Annie but something made me come here with Mom instead. It's not that Abbey and I are particularly close. We aren't alienated either, we are sisters. We will always be sisters, but we have very different, very busy lives. But, Abbey and Jed have always been there for me. It is important for me to be here for them. 

Abbey was two years older than me and Mom used to say we were as different as night and day. As a little girl, Abbey was forever bringing home stray and injured animals to nurse back to health. I used to help her feed them and care for them. I remember one night she got up every two hours to feed an abandoned kitten with an eyedropper, she was only 9 years old. It is very appropriate she ended up on a farm. I thought she would become a vet, Dad used to say "Beth, this one is going to be a nurse," and Mom would say, "No Michael, that one is going to be a doctor." Guess Mom won that one. 

I still remember Abbey's bedroom at our big old house in Salem, Massachusetts where we grew up. The house had belonged to one of the old whaling captains from the previous century and was huge. Dad was a doctor, a very important doctor in Boston, and we didn't want for anything. Abbey was a "girly" girl and her room reflected that. The wallpaper was pink roses, the curtains and her bedspread, white eyelet lace. And she had a large canopy bed. There were posters of Paul McCartney and Robert Redford on the walls. There was a shelf with her riding trophies and ribbons, and a bookshelf crammed with books. She has always been a brain. She and her friends were always giggling in that room, fussing over new hairstyles and make-up, and mooning over movie stars and the Beatles. To be fair, she did try to include me. She used to tell me, "Come on Janey, you'd be really pretty if you just let me curl your hair." But I wasn't interested. 

I remember sitting on the edge of her bed watching her primp for her dates. Then, all these years later, I was at the White House for a state dinner and I watched her prepare in the same exact way. Only this time it was for one man, Jed Bartlet. 

I remember that first weekend she brought him home with her to introduce to the family. There was a sparkle in her eye I had never seen before. I didn't need her to tell me he was 'the one'. It was written all over her face and it was in the way he looked at her. 

A year later Abbey came to me with barely concealed excitement to tell me how Jed had gotten down on one knee and proposed to her at the Bartlet farm and how she had lost her virginity that afternoon. Her face was just glowing as she told me, "I'm so glad I waited Janey. It meant so much that it was Jed. I knew it would hurt but he was so sweet. He kept telling me how much he loved me and I knew it was true. He wasn't just saying it to get me into bed." 

I was Abbey's maid of honor. I tried to convince her to let it be Millie, her best friend from college but Abbey was adamant. I was her sister, so I was maid of honor. Millie was a bridesmaid. God, how I hated that rose colored gown. Unlike Abbey, I HATE dresses. Abbey is the clotheshorse in our family, she always has been. Being First Lady has just given her an excuse to have famous designers at her beck and call. She is one of the few feminists I know who have not lost their femininity. She may be some big wig doctor but she also likes to look good, really good. 

I can't help but compare Jed's reception into our family and my own partner Pat's welcome. It was almost non-existent. Abbey was the first person in the family I came out of the closet to. I was visiting the farm and Abbey had just put Elizabeth down for a nap, Jed was out walking the fields with his grandfather. Abbey handed me a cup of tea and sat down with a tired sigh, having a three year old and being in medical school was exhausting for her. 

"Abbey," I said, "I am going to be introducing you to the person I want to spend the rest of my life with." 

"Oh Janey, that's wonderful. I didn't even know you were dating anyone seriously. Why haven't you ever spoken of him? What's his name? Did he get down on one knee? Where is your ring?" 

"Stop...stop," I laughed. 

"I can't help it. I'm excited." 

"You may not be after you hear this. The person I am in love with, well, HER name is Pat. She is a woman," I see the look of shock on Abbey's face as her smile fades. 

"A woman," she said softly. She just stared at me as if not able to comprehend this. "You're a...a...a" 

"Lesbian," I grin. "You can say it Abbey." 

"I...I don't know what to say, Jane. I'm shocked." 

"Oh come on Abbey, you can't be too shocked. Didn't you ever wonder why I didn't drool like you over Paul Newman and Robert Redford or dream about marrying Paul McCartney like you and your friends? That I didn't care about my clothes or make up or perfume?" 

"I guess I just thought you were eccentric." 

"Abbey." 

"Oh all right. I suppose somewhere in the back of my mind I may have wondered why. I just never expected..." 

"Is it that repulsive to you?" 

"Janey, you have to give me some time to get used to the idea. I guess having drooled, as you so eloquently put it, over men since I was a teenager I have a hard time picturing an attraction to a woman. You really don't get turned on by men at all?" I saw her mind wander and I knew she was thinking about Jed. What I didn't know was that she was thinking about everything about him that turned her on. His hands, which could be so gentle, or have barely restrained strength, the way the blond hairs grew on his tanned forearms, the feeling of the muscles bunching and straining on his back and shoulders when he made love to her, the way the sandy hair on his chest tapered off on his belly to become a straight line disappearing into... 

"Earth to Abbey," I say, and she comes out of her reverie. 

"Sorry," she blushes. 

"No, I can honestly say men do not turn me on but I can see what they do for you." We both laughed. "What I need to know is will you be able to accept me this way? Accept Pat?" 

"Jane, you are my sister, I love you. I want you to be happy. If this Pat makes you happy, I will do everything I can to make her feel welcome." 

"What about Jed?" 

"You leave Jed to me." 

I'll never know what was said in the conversation between Abbey and Jed. All I know is that the two of them provided a united front with me when I told Mom and Dad about Pat. From my parents I at first got anger, tears, and a complete lack of understanding but Abbey and Jed backed me up all the way. Pat and I were always welcome in their home. 

I know that despite his stance on gay rights, Jed is not really comfortable with the gay lifestyle. But, he explained to me, that when he takes himself out of the equation and only thinks about individuals being able to love who they are in love with it makes it an issue worth fighting for. I think Pat and I helped to open both their minds a little wider. 

Both Jed and Abbey were so helpful and loving when Pat was dying of breast cancer. When she went into the hospital for the final time, Abbey was on bed rest due to her difficult pregnancy with Zoey. Pat's family had disowned her and my parents were at a medical convention in Europe. I was sitting all alone outside Pat's room when I saw Jed coming down the hall, his coat draped over his arm. 

"Hey Janey," he said, kissing my cheek. "How is Pat?" 

"Hi Jed," I said, barely holding back the tears. "She has slipped into a coma. It won't be long now." Jed sat and took my hand in his. 

"I can't imagine what you are going through," he said. "I can't imagine how hard it must be to say good-bye to someone you love with all your heart." I knew he was thinking about Abbey when I saw the tears in his eyes. "She was a good person Janey, and she will be going to a place where she won't be in any more pain." 

"Do you believe that, Jed? I have heard so many people say we will go to Hell for being gay. Do you honestly believe she will go to Heaven?" 

"Yes, I do. I really believe that if Jesus were walking around today he would be fighting against gay discrimination, discrimination of any kind. We are all God's children Jane." I will always remember how my brother-in-law stayed with me that whole day and was standing beside me, holding my hand, when Pat took her final breath on this earth. How he helped me make all the arrangements and spoke at her funeral. I will never forget the emotions that ran through me when he and Abbey asked me to be Zoey's godmother and told me the new baby's name was Zoey Patricia. My nieces are the closest thing I will ever have for children, and Jed and Abbey can never know how much this meant to me. 

I realize most gay people don't feel Jed Bartlet has done enough for them, I am one of them and so is Jed Bartlet. I know in his heart he wants to do more, but politics get in the way. When he has been in office for a while and has more clout, I know he will push for a more sweeping agenda. For now we are taking baby steps, baby steps that may never be completed now. 

I look at Abbey, who is sitting with her head on our mother's shoulder, Zoey's head is on her lap, and she is stroking her daughter's hair. I feel such a surge of anger at a God who would allow a good man like Jed to be shot in cold blood. A God who took Pat away from me and now threatened to do the same to my sister. This country needs him God, I pray, Abbey needs him, please don't take him away from her. Don't take him away from those girls. Don't you do it. I am lost in my own thoughts when I see Abbey rise. I see her face pale as she stumbles and is caught by Mom. 

"I'm OK," Abbey says, leaning against her. "I just need some water." I follow her and Mom to the bathroom to see Abbey splashing cold water on her face and wrists while Mom rubs her back up and down. 

"Honey, you are making yourself sick," Mom says. "When was the last time you ate or slept? It's no wonder you're lightheaded." 

"I'm not making myself sick Mama," Abbey says, drying her face and leaning against the cool wall. "It's the baby," she looks at us for reaction. 

"The baby," Mom and I say at the same time. 

"I'm pregnant," Abbey says with a sad smile. "Almost three months." 

"Does Jed know?" I ask. 

"I told him before the surgery. I thought it might change his mind, It only made him more determined. Determined to do the same things with this baby that he did with the girls. I have no idea what the future is going to bring." 

"Well Abigail. You need to start taking better care of yourself," Mom said. "You need to start thinking about that baby." 

"I know Mama. But I won't be able to take it easy until I know what is going on with Jed. I don't know what kind of a mother I will be to this child if I lose Jed.' 

"Abigail Anne," Mom scolded her sternly, "no more negative thoughts. We will pull Jed through this with positive thoughts." 

At that moment CJ stepped out from one of the stalls. 

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I couldn't help but overhear you. You are pregnant?" 

"Yes CJ. But, please, keep it to yourself for now." 

"But there are thousands of people outside holding a candlelight vigil. They would be happy for some good news." 

"They will get good news when we tell them Jed came through the surgery with flying colors," Abbey reaches out to touch CJ's arm. "CJ, I'm not trying to be difficult. I had a first trimester miscarriage between Ellie and Zoey. Zoey was born a month and a half early and you know after Zoey we lost a little boy in my fifth month. Now, with my age, there is a very good chance I will not carry this child to term." 

"I understand," CJ said sadly. "Just for the record I think both the President and his baby are going to make it, just a feeling in my heart." 

"Thank you, CJ. I pray you are right," We all start to walk out of the bathroom but Abbey stops and grabs my arm. 

"I don't want to go back out there," Abbey confides in me. 

"Why not? Those are all the people who love you and Jed out there." 

"I know, but when it was just me, Leo, and the girls it seemed less serious. Now with you guys, Emily, Jon and Sally, I know just what kind of a vigil this is. It makes the fact that Jed could die more real." 

"Let us help you. Come on," I take her hand and lead her back into the waiting room. Abbey leads me to a window and we look outside to see thousands of people standing with candles in vigil for their fallen President. 

"They love him Abbey," I say and she presses her forehead to the glass. I see the tears trickling down her cheeks and I squeeze her hand tightly, glad to be able to support her as she has supported me. 

"Mrs. Bartlet," the surgeon says, entering the room. Everyone moves in close to Abbey forming a protective circle and I feel Abbey's grip on me tighten. 

"How..." Abbey clears her throat. "How is my husband?" 

"The President came through the surgery fine. He is in the recovery room now. His prognosis is good." Abbey closed her eyes taking a deep shuddering breath, there is an excited buzz in the room. 

"What about the paralysis?" Abbey asked. 

"We won't know anything about that until the President wakes up." 

"Thank you doctor," Abbey placed a hand on his forearm. "I can't thank you enough for everything you've done." 

"Let's just hope we have some good news when the President wakes up." 

"He's alive," Abbey smiled, "that's all the good news I need." 

Chapter 6: 

Jed awoke once in the night. It was dark and quiet. His body hurt like hell and he was disoriented. He felt like he was choking and began to panic until he realized it was a breathing tube down his throat. Where was he?...What?..., his heart rate rose. And then he saw her, Abbey. She was sitting in the chair by his bed. Her head was tipped back, her long hair flowing over the back of the chair. She was asleep and she was alone. Oh Abbey, he thought, I had the easy part, I was knocked out. I will never know what you have been through the past couple of days. He wanted to call out to her but the breathing tube kept him silent. He was so weak...so weak and tired... 

The next time Jed awoke, it was daylight. The sun was streaming through the windows and this time Abbey was not alone. His daughters were with her. His breathing tube was gone but his throat was very sore and dry. 

"A...Abbey," he rasped weakly. 

"Jed!" She was at his side in an instant. "Oh baby, you're awake," She began to stroke his cheek with one hand while the other rested on his thigh. 

"Hey...are you getting...fresh with...me?" He asked. Abbey looked at him puzzled, then realized where her hand was. 

"Jed. My God. Can you feel my hand?" 

"Yeah," he grinned. Abbey moved the blanket from her husband's legs. 

"Can you wiggle your toes?" She asked. They all held their breath as Jed moved his toes. 

"Daddy you did it!!!" His girls squealed showering him with praise, hugs, and kisses. Abbey couldn't speak. She brought her fingers up to her trembling lips and felt the tears slide down her cheeks. 

"Abbey," Jed reached out for her hand. 

"You were right, Jed," she said simply. "You made the right decision." 

"Yeah. But that doesn't mean...I...didn't put you...through hell." 

"Well, yeah you did," she smiled, wiping her eyes. 

"Are you OK?...Is everything OK?" He weakly raised his IV-laden hand to lightly touch her belly. Abbey knew he was trying to ask her about the baby without alerting the girls, in case they didn't know. They didn't. She wanted to tell them with Jed. 

"Yes, sweetheart. Everything is fine. We'll talk later. You need to rest now. Rest and regain your strength." 

"You too...All of you...I'm OK...go home...sleep...you look...awful." 

"Same charming man I married," Abbey laughed. 

"You didn't let...me finish. Beautiful but...tired," he tried to smile but his eyes were getting so heavy. 

"Well that sounds better," Abbey said, squeezing his hand. 

"Dad's right, Mom," Ellie said. "You haven't slept in three days." Jed sent her an accusing glare. 

"I took catnaps," Abbey defended herself. "But now that I know you are doing so well pumpkin, I think I will go home and crash." 

"We'll make sure she does, Dad," Elizabeth said and they all bent to kiss him before leaving the room. 

"I am going back to the White House," she said to Jed's doctor (it would never be home for her, home was the farm). "I'm going to give you the direct line to my cellphone. If there is ANY change in my husband's condition, I want you to call me IMMEDIATELY."" 

"Yes ma'am," he assured her. 

With that done Abbey walked out of the hospital for the first time in three nightmarish days. She blinked back against the sunlight. It had felt more like three weeks. It was just amazing to her that the world had gone on while she had been keeping vigil. People were living their everyday lives, children were born, couples had wed and couples had divorced, children had gone to school, and all the while her world had come to a complete standstill. There were photographers snapping pictures of the pale, tired, and drawn First Lady but Abbey ignored them. 

However, when the hundreds of well-wishers surrounding the hospital began to shout their support for Jed and ask how he was doing, she turned to them with a warm smile. 

"He's going to be just fine," she called out. Before going into the awaiting car, her daughters brought Abbey to the corner of the hospital where people had been maintaining vigils and bringing tributes to their fallen President. There were hundreds of lit candles in holders, flowers, cards, and notes. Abbey read some of the messages expressing their 'Get well soon, our prayers are with you' sentiments. The more inspirational messages and poems visibly moved her. She was overwhelmed by the obvious love and concern ordinary Americans had for their President, her husband. 

"I want your father to see this when he leaves," she said to the girls as they entered the car. 

*** 

At the White House Abbey went by the oval office to see Mrs. Landingham. The door to the office opened and it was very disconcerting to see John Hoynes sitting at her husband's desk, disconcerting and wrong. Jed belonged at that desk, not John. It was frightening to think of how easily this could have become a permanent situation. John saw her and came out of the office. 

"Hello Abigail," he said as he kissed her cheek. "How is the President doing?" 

"Much better," she said. 

"Well if there is anything Connie and I can do for you, please let me know." 

"I will, John. Thank you." 

"I am pulling for him, Abbey." 

"I know," she smiled, "thanks again." John turned and went back into her husband's office. 

Mrs. Landingham gave Abbey the faxes of well wishes from leaders all over the world, Prime Ministers, Presidents, Emperors, Kings, Princes, and even dictators. But, she was too exhausted to go through them all. She was also too tired to visit with all the family members who were gathered at the White House. She simply wanted to crawl between the cool sheets of her and Jed's bed and sleep for days. 

She entered the bedroom finding it hard to believe that the last time she had layed in that bed, none of this had happened. She saw the book she had been reading that night before all this had happened. She saw the nightgown she had thrown off after her Secret Service agent had knocked on her bedroom door to tell her that her husband and daughter had been involved in a shooting. She knew that she would forever divide her life into before Jed was shot and after. Before she realized just how fragile life was and how easily it could be lost. She would never take Jed or the life they had together for granted, for in the blink of an eye it could all be taken away. 

Abbey took the nightgown and threw it in the trash. She wanted no reminders of that night, of the terror that had filled her veins upon hearing 'The President was shot'. She was too tired to bother to look for another nightgown and simply stripped down to her bra and panties, fell into bed, and pulled the covers up over her head. 

"Stay strong baby," she whispered to Jed as she fell asleep for twelve straight hours. She didn't wake up until she felt someone stroking her hair back from her face. It was her mother. 

"Sweetheart, we're all going to have some dinner. Do you want to join us or would you like to have a tray in here?" 

"Mmmm..."Abbey said stretching out. She realized she was starving. "I want to take a shower first but then I'll join you." She moved to the bathroom feeling her stomach rumble with hunger. "I'm sorry sweetie," she said to the baby in her womb, rubbing a hand over her belly, "I promise I'll start taking better care of you." 

Abbey took her shower and came out feeling refreshed and more human. She left the bedroom wearing a pair of old faded jeans and one of Jed's Notre Dame sweatshirts. Her wet hair was pulled into a ponytail and her feet were bare. 

"My God, you look about sixteen," Dr. Michael O'Neill said. 

"I wish I felt sixteen Dad," Abbey said, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "I feel about ninety." When Abbey stood up she saw Leo sitting alone on the couch in the corner. He looked lost in thought and she got worried. 

"Leo," she said approaching him. "Have you been to the hospital?" 

"I just got back a few minutes ago." 

"How is Jed?" 

"The same. In and out. The doctor said he should be more awake tomorrow when the anesthesia wears off and his pain meds are lowered. He is on some heavy duty pain medication." 

"Well, he's had some heavy duty pain," Abbey said sadly. 

"How are you?" Leo asked concerned. "Everything OK with the baby?" 

"Jed told you." It was a statement not a question. 

"He wanted me to take care of you and the baby if something happened. Abbey, we need to talk." 

"What's wrong, Leo?" she asked with a worried frown. 

"With everything being so crazy I haven't had a chance to tell you." 

"Tell me what?" 

"Abbey...I am so sorry," he looked down at the floor. 

"What are you sorry about?" Abbey asked puzzled. 

"Everything...All of this...it's all my fault. 

"Leo, how is this your fault? Did you shoot Jed?" 

"Abbey, I mean it, If I hadn't asked Jed to run for President, none of this would have happened." 

"Leo, have you ever taken credit for getting Jed elected?" 

"Of course not." 

"Than why should you take the blame when something goes wrong?" Abbey cupped Leo's face in her palms and looked into his eyes. "Jed and I are big people, Leo. We made the decision to run together. If we hadn't wanted to run, there is nothing you could have said to convince us. This is NOT your fault. A crazy person shot my husband. I don't blame you." She wiped one of Leo's tears away with her thumb. "Don't blame yourself, Leo." She kissed his forehead and moved to join the family in the dining room. 

You are one hell of a woman Abigail Bartlet, Leo said to himself, while Zoey leaned against the hall wall biting her bottom lip and trying to digest what she had just heard. Pregnant. Her mother was having another baby. What more was going to be thrown their way? 

Chapter 7: 

It was a warm day and Abbey breezed into Jed's hospital room, bringing with her the scent of spring. Jed was sitting up in bed with his glasses on reading from a file. 

"Josiah Bartlet. What are you doing?" she asked exasperated. 

"Nothing," Jed said innocently and put the file down. "Come give me a kiss, gorgeous." 

"Don't nothing me, Jed," she said moving forward to lightly kiss his lips. While she did so, she grabbed the file. 

"Hey, that wasn't fair," he protested. "You took advantage of the fact that I am injured and weak." 

"Jed," she glared at him, slamming the folder down. "THIS is WORK. Didn't your doctor say NO stress?" 

"It's nothing stressful, I swear." 

"And I swear I don't know what I am going to do with you. You were shot twice a few days ago and you've had two major surgeries to repair the damage. You are supposed to be taking it EASY. Do you understand what easy means? God, you can be such a jackass sometimes." 

"But a lovable one," he gave her a boyish grin. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. He made it so hard to stay mad at him."Hey, don't you notice anything different about me?" Abbey looked at him up and down. 

"Well..." she said, knowing exactly what he was talking about. 

"I'm free," he said. "No more tubes except for this stupid IV. I can even pee on my own now." 

"Well, THAT is exciting," Abbey teased him. But, she could see how much this first step back to independence meant to him and she wanted to mark the occasion. "Since you are no longer attached to this bed by tubes, how about if I see if I can spring you for a ride?" 

"You mean get out of this room," he said anxiously. 

"Let me talk to your doctor and to Ron." 

"You can convince them Abbey. They'll listen to you." 

"IF I do this, you need to promise me no more work today." 

"Scout's honor," he lifted two fingers, "just break me free, babe." Abbey shook her head with a smile and left the room. 

She was back fifteen minutes later with a wheelchair. 

"We're all set for go," she said but stopped short when she saw the nurse peeling back the bandage on Jed's torso. 

"I just have to have my bandages changed first," Jed said anxiously. "You can stay, can't you?" 

"Jed, I have nothing else planned for the day," she assured him and moved closer to the bed to take his hand. It hurt to see him so worried about missing a simple trip outside his room for fear that she might too busy. 

Abbey had yet to see the damage the bullets had done to her husband's body and she winced when she saw the angry red scars criss crossed with black stitches just under his breast bone and on his lower right rib cage. Jed saw the tears filling her eyes and squeezed her hand. 

"It's OK, babe," he said. 

"Do you know how lucky you are?" She said touching the damaged flesh with light fingertips. "Do you know how lucky you are to be alive?" 

"Yes, I do," he said solemnly. Abbey stepped back to allow the nurse to cleanse the wound with antiseptic. She knew how important it was to keep the wounds free from infection, not only because of the danger that it posed, but also because of the danger of fever with Jed's M.S. 

"Oh...shit that hurts," Jed groaned. "Abbey...Abbey," Abbey moved forward and took his hand again. His face had gone ashen gray with the pain and beads of perspiration dotted his forehead. 

"It's OK, Jed," Abbey said, running a cool cloth over his brow. "I'm right here." 

"Don't leave," he begged. 

"I'm not going anywhere." She continued to soothe and talk to him while the nurse cleansed the wounds on his back. 

"Oh...oh shit Abbey," he groaned. "I'm gonna puke." Abbey quickly grabbed a bedpan and held it while her husband threw up. Abbey stroked his back telling him everything was OK, then wiped his mouth with the edge of a wet towel. 

"Better now, pumpkin?" She asked. 

"MmmmmHmmmm...sorry about that," he said sheepishly. "The pain just makes me sick sometimes." 

"I know it does honey," she said sympathetically. 

After the bandages were replaced, Jed was exhausted from the pain. Abbey sat with him while his pain medication took effect and he fell asleep. She sat in a chair reading until he woke up a couple hours later. He was feeling better and his color was back. He hated the fact that he was so weak a simple thing like changing his bandages could wipe him out like that. But, at least Abbey was still there. 

"I'm ready to go for my ride," he said, "thanks for staying." 

So Abbey and an orderly helped him from the bed to the wheelchair. Jed held his IV pole as Abbey pushed him down the corridor, past where she had learned that he'd been flatlining when he came in, past the recovery room where she had spent that awful first night in abject terror, past the private waiting room she had spent so many hours in, and out the sliding doors into the sunshine. They were in a small secluded courtyard that had been cleared by the service. Jed lifted his face toward the sun, feeling it's healing rays. 

"God, it feels good to feel the sun again," he said. "Abbey..thank you." 

"You're very welcome," she said and kissed his forehead while spreading a blanket over his legs. 

When Leo arrived an hour later he found them still in the courtyard. Jed was in his wheelchair while Abbey sat on the grass beside him her head resting against his knee. They were doing the New York Times crossword puzzle. 

"Well, it's nice to see you out in the real world again," Leo grinned. 

"Leo," Jed said brightly and Abbey turned to see the files in Leo's hands. 

"Leo McGarry," she said, eyes narrowing, "is that work for Jed in those files?" 

"What?...uh...no...what files do you mean?" He put the files behind his back. Abbey stared at him with a raised brow. 

"Oh, you are so busted, Leo," Jed laughed. 

"This is not a laughing matter you two idiots. Leo, Jed needs his REST. He needs to recover. If you bring him anymore work you will leave me no choice but to break your fingertips." 

"Yes ma'am," Leo said chastised. 

"Now, would you help me wheel Jed back to his room? I'll need some help getting him back into bed. I think he's had enough fun in the sun for one day." 

"I'm right behind you ma'am," Leo said dutifully. 

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Jed said, shaking his head. 

Chapter 8: 

Abbey awoke deep in the night. Her heart was racing, her nightgown stuck to her back and chest with perspiration. She reached for Jed wanting only to be held and comforted in his arms but he was not there. Jed was still in the hospital. And that's when she would realize her nightmares were based on reality. Nighttime was always the worst. During the day she was busy with Jed and working with the physical therapists to set up a room for him when he back to the White House. But, in the night, her demons came to haunt her. The nightmares were not always the same but they varied very little. They always started the same. The way things had actually happened, with her service agent waking her and the fast trip to GW. After that, it changed from dream to dream the only constant being that every time she got to that hospital she was told that Jed was dead. Sometimes when she was told, she would lose her baby. Sometimes she would see herself numb and broken beside John Hoynes while he took the oath of office. She saw herself standing by his coffin draped with the American flag while his body lay in state. On this particular night she was met at the door by a crying Leo who said, "I'm so sorry Abbey, their injuries were both too severe. Jed and Zoey are dead." and all that would go through her mind was no, no, NO!!! and she woke up this way filled with terror and a sense of loss so great it would make her sob even though she knew it wasn't true. 

This nightly ritual, keeping her from sleeping, was starting to play havoc with her day, as if the pregnancy didn't make her tired enough. For the past week her fear for Jed had masked her own physical symptoms. Now they had come back with in full force. Her breasts were so tender it hurt to even sleep on her side, she was nauseous morning, noon AND night, and she was so tired she could actually fall asleep in the car to and from the hospital. There was nobody to commiserate with her. Normally she would complain to Jed, a little guilt never hurt considering he got all the fun and none of the hard part of carrying their baby, but he had enough on his plate with his own recovery. He didn't need to be worrying about her. The only other person around who knew was Leo and she could just imagine his face if she walked up to him and said,"Oh Leo, my breasts are killing me and I can't seem to stop puking." She was dying to tell Millie but she and Jed wanted to tell the family first and they wouldn't do that until he came home. So, she suffered in silence. 

Zoey arrived at the White House later in the afternoon. She had been staying there ever since the shooting. She entered the residence to see her mother laying on the couch sleeping. A book was face down on her chest. There was a glass of ginger ale and a small plate of saltines on the coffee table beside her. Obviously she had not been feeling well. Zoey tried not to make any noise but Abbey soon stirred. 

"Hey, Zo...how was school?" Abbey asked, yawning. 

"OK...are you all right Mom?" 

"Oh, I'm fine. Just a little queasy stomach." 

"You don't usually sleep during the day. You seem awfully tired lately." Zoey hoped this would be the opening her mother would take to tell her about her pregnancy. 

"I'm still catching up for all those days I didn't sleep." Abbey lied. Zoey looked at her disappointed. She didn't know why her mother was keeping this a secret from her. 

It was just the two of them for dinner that evening and Zoey was very quiet. Abbey could sense something was not right with her youngest daughter. 

"Zoey, is something wrong?" She asked. 

"No...I'm OK." 

"You've hardly touched your supper." 

"Neither have you Mom," Zoey said almost accusingly. 

"I told you earlier. I'm not feeling all that well." 

"Yes...you did," Zoey said, standing up. "Well, I've got a paper to write. I'll be in my room." 

"OK," Abbey said a bit puzzled by her daughter's behavior. 

Zoey stayed up as late as possible hoping that in doing so she would be too tired to have that horrible nightmare she had been having since the shooting. She was typing at her computer keyboard, her eyes getting heavy until her head finally fell to her desk. 

She heard the sound of firecrackers popping everywhere. People were screaming. Daddy was thrown in the limo. He was choking on his own blood. Daddy...Daddy...don't die...They are wheeling him into the trauma room. Doctors and nurses are all over him shouting out orders, tearing off his clothes, applying pressure to the blood gushing from his gunshot wounds. He was covered in blood. "We have no heartbeat. He's flatlined" and they all frantically work to jump start his heart. She sees his body jerk with the electric jolts. It is not working. They take a big needle and they inject a stimulant directly into his heart. This is where reality turns to nightmare. The monitor does not show the blips of a heartbeat. "We've lost him," the doctor says, "time of death, 10:03pm." 

NOOOOOOO!!!!!!! Zoey awoke drenched in sweat tears on her cheeks, her heart beating madly. It took her a few minutes to realize it was only a nightmare. That the injection really had started her father's heart again and he was alive and resting in the hospital. But, she couldn't shake her fear. She slipped on her robe and walked over to her parents' room needing that reassurance. 

Her mother was asleep. Zoey stood by the bed and watched her sleep. It really scared her that her mother was pregnant. Even though she had only been four at the time, she remembered how awful it was at home after Peter's death. She remembered that when her father had brought her mother home from the hospital, she had gone straight into their bedroom and then hadn't wanted to leave. She remembered standing in the hallway with her sisters while they listened to the sounds of her crying. They could hear their father offering to run a bath for her, get her something to eat, help her to dress. "Please Abbey, please let me help you baby," he would say over and over. But all help was turned down by their grieving mother. 

"You just have to give Mommy some time," Daddy had said. "She's very upset right now." 

"Cause we aren't going to have a baby?" Zoey asked. 

"Yes." 

"Because he's in Heaven?" 

"Yes," Daddy had said, running his hand over her cheek. "We just need to give Mommy some time to be sad and we need to give her a lot of love." 

But, time wasn't working. Mommy didn't want to get dressed, she didn't want to go to work, she didn't cook their meals, or listen to their prayers at night. Mommy was gone and in her place was this silent, grieving stranger. Grandma Beth had come up to help Daddy, and Zoey overheard their whispered conversations about grief and depression. Zoey hadn't understood any of that. All she knew was that something was VERY wrong with her mother. 

One morning while Daddy and Gran were making breakfast Zoey, opened the door to her parents' room. Daddy had opened the curtains Mom kept shutting, and Mommy was laying curled on the bed staring at the wall. 

"Mommy," Zoey said tentatively. She stood there with her thumb in her mouth something she hadn't done in two years. 

"Zoey, whats wrong?" Abbey asked tiredly. 

"Mommy, don't you love us anymore?" 

"What?" Abbey asked sitting up. "Why would you say such a thing?" 

"Cause you said you had enough love for a new baby and all of us. But, now that there isn't going to be a new baby, you don't care about us anymore." 

"Oh Zoey honey, that isn't true. I love you and your sisters and Daddy more than anything in the world. Come here sweetheart," she pulled Zoey into her arms. 

"Then why don't you want to be with us anymore?" 

"Oh Zoey...I do...It's hard for me to explain. You know when you want something really, really bad and you're very excited about getting it...and then something happens and you don't get it. That's kind of how I feel. I was very excited about the new baby...and it got taken away. And because of that...oh Zoey....I'm just so very, very sad," she began to cry softly. 

"Did you love the new baby more than us?" 

"No, sweetheart...I couldn't love anyone more than all of you. I love you, Liz, Ellie, and Daddy with all my heart and I'm so sorry if I haven't been showing you that." 

A half hour later Abbey had showered and dressed and walked downstairs. Jed was dishing out pancakes to the girls when he looked up to see his wife standing in the archway. His look of surprise turned to a smile of pure relief and happiness. 

"You got enough for me?" Abbey asked ,moving forward to take her customary place at the table. 

"Always enough for one more," Jed said, reaching out to take her hand. Abbey mouthed the words "I'm sorry", the pain evident in her eyes. "I love you," Jed mouthed back. 

"Girls, I'm really sorry for the way I've been these past couple of weeks," Abbey said. "I didn't mean to shut you all out." 

"It's cool Mom," Elizabeth said. "Dad explained it to us. He said you would come around in time. We just had to be patient and let you be sad." 

"Well, I love you all very much and, even though I am still very sad, everything is going to be OK now," she squeezed Jed's hand. 

*** 

Zoey watched the steady rise and fall of her mother's breathing hoping she wouldn't have to go through that again. Abbey stirred and opened her eyes. 

"Zoey? What is it honey?" She asked. 

"How did you know I was here?" 

"Mothers always sleep with one eye open. You know that. What's wrong? 

"I had a nightmare." 

"About the shooting?" 

"How did you know?" 

"Oh sweetie, I think I share the same nightmare. Do you want to talk about it?" 

"No. Can I just lay with you?" 

"Of course." Abbey lifted the blankets and Zoey crawled in like she had as a child. 

"You really should talk to your Dad about this," Abbey said, stroking her hair. "You two really shared that moment. Maybe you can help each other." 

"Maybe," Zoey said and began to drift off to sleep. 

Zoey was up at the crack of dawn, still feeling the residual effects of her nightmare. She decided to cut class and go to the hospital. She had to see for herself that her father was OK. 

Jed awoke to see his daughter sitting staring at him. 

"Hey Zoey. Are you here alone?" 

"Yes," she said nodding with tears in her eyes. 

"What's wrong...is it Mom?" He asked urgently, thinking the worst. He would never forgive himself if the stress from all this caused her to lose the baby. 

"No, Mom's OK. It's just...every time I go to sleep I have the same nightmare. It's the shooting over and over again. Everything is exactly how it was except that well..." 

"What?...Except what?" he asked, reaching out to take her hand. 

"Except in my nightmare you die...," she began to cry. 

"Oh Zoey, I'm fine now." 

"Do you remember any of it?" 

"Some. I remember the feeling of being shot, I remember being in the limo. After that, not much." 

"I ran away from CJ and stood in the doorway of your trauma room. You were dying, Daddy. When they brought you in, you were bleeding everywhere, your heart wasn't beating. They tried three times but they couldn't get your heart beating. You were dying and I was all alone. They had to stick this huge needle right into your heart to get it started again." Zoey began to cry, laying her head on her father's arm. 

"God Zoey, I didn't realize. I didn't know you saw all that," he said through his own tears while he stroked her hair. "Did you talk to Mom about this?" 

"Briefly. I didn't want to get into the actual nightmare. She's having her own nightmares. And...and I didn't want to add to her stress. I know about the baby, Dad. I overheard Uncle Leo asking her about it." 

"Was there a problem?" He asked worried. 

"No. He was just checking up on her." 

"How do you feel about it?" 

"Scared, I guess" 

"I know, I feel the same." 

"She wasn't feeling well yesterday afternoon. I think she is having some morning sickness. I tried to get her to tell me about it but she wouldn't. Why are you guys keeping it such a secret?" 

"There is no nefarious plot, Zoey. We just wanted to tell you and your sisters together. Hell, I just found out myself a few days ago." 

"Well, I've been worried about her and these nightmares." 

"I think you and I are going to have some nightmares about this for some time. I think we all will. Maybe if we talk about them, they will go away." 

"Have you had any?" 

"Quite a few," Jed admitted. "But in mine, it is you who is shot and I can't save you. Or, Mom is with us, and she is shot and she dies in my arms. I even had one in which you were all with me. All my girls and all my staff were gunned down in front of me. I was the only one not shot and I just kneeled there with all your bodies around me praying for the bastard to keep shooting and take me with you all." 

"That's awful Dad," Zoey said, taking his hand, and father and daughter locked eyes with the camaraderie of shared pain. 

Chapter 9: 

A week and a half after he had been admitted the hospital, the hospital staff was looking forward to the departure of the President. The press had been camped out there all this time while wild rumors plagued the nation. The President was a vegetable, the President couldn't walk, the President had brain damage, all of those headlines had been on the covers of the various tabloids. The President's staff was in and out disregarding all hospital visiting rules and now that he was regaining his strength, Jed Bartlet was a horrible patient. He was always trying to do more than was advised and was snapping at everyone about his restrictions, the food, the rules, oh just about everything. Jed wanted to go home. 

"I am not entirely comfortable with you going home, Mr. President," his doctor stated. "I would like to monitor you for a couple more days." 

"Look," Jed said, interrupting him irritatedly, "I am the President. I have a country to run. I have my own personal physician and my wife is a doctor. I think I've got it covered." 

"Which is precisely why we are going to let you go home. The First Lady has also interviewed physical therapists and has hired Dr. Kent to work with you at the White House." 

"So you are telling me you are letting me go home?" 

"Yes. We trust the First Lady to monitor your recovery." 

"Well, it's about time," Jed grinned. 

*** 

The next morning all Abbey was monitoring was her husband trying to dress. 

"I can't believe you didn't bring my Notre Dame sweatshirt," he sulked. 

"Jed, you cannot wear your Notre Dame sweatshirt out of the hospital," she said, while pulling clothes out of the bag she had brought. 

"Why not? It's comfortable." 

"Because the entire world knows you are going home to the White House today. There are hundreds of people and reporters outside." 

"And I need to look Presidential." 

"Yup," She was squinting at a blue tie in one hand, a red in the other. "The red I think," she tossed the tie at him. She turned to see him struggling to button his shirt over his still heavily bandaged torso and moved forward to help him. She was tying his tie when his breakfast was brought in. The smell filled Abbey with nausea. She took a deep breath and swallowed trying to quell her rebelling stomach. Jed noticed her face pale, saw her eyes close. 

"Abbey, are you all right?" He frowned. 

"Yes I...just don't talk to me right now...I...Oh God!!" She turned and raced for the bathroom. Jed grabbed his crutches and slowly made his way over finding his wife retching horribly over the toilet. Abbey heard him enter the bathroom but was too miserable to look up. She was fighting a losing battle with the waves of nausea. She felt Jed take her hair and pull it back into his fist away from her face. Her stomach contracted and she heaved again. Jed groaned in pain as he got down on his knees and began to rub her back. 

"Jed...please go away," she moaned. He knew she hated him to see her this way. 

"No way, sweet knees. You've been taking care of me. It's my turn. We're quite a pair aren't we?" He grinned ruefully. 

"We're getting too old for this shit, Jed," she said, flushing the toilet and wearily rising to her feet. 

"I'll second that," he said, wetting a washcloth to wipe her brow and the corners of her mouth. "OK now?" 

"Yeah," she said, rinsing her mouth with mouthwash. "I'm just going to go sit down for a few minutes." 

"We really haven't had much of a chance to talk about this," Jed said limping out after her. Damn, his back made it hurt like hell to walk. 

"You can't even say it can you, Jed? It is not a THIS, it is a BABY...I know what you're scared of," she touched his arm. 

"Do you, Abbey?" He whirled around. "Do you really?" 

"Yes Jed," she said softly now. "Believe me, I remember what we went through with Zoey and Peter." 

"I know what it did to ME, Abbey, and it scares the hell out of me because of what it did to YOU. The weeks after Peter's death were some of the darkest days of our marriage. I was afraid I had lost my son AND my wife. I really can't go through that again, Abbey. THAT is what I am scared of." 

"I know," she said through tears, "Jed, I'm having surgery next week." Jed just stood there in shock. He never would have believed it. Never would have believed that Abbey would be so cavalier about this decision. That she would make the decision without him. He understood why she had made that decision, but dammit it was his baby too. Abbey saw the tears in his eyes, looked at him puzzled. 

"Jed, what's wrong? Are you hurting?" 

"Hell yes, I'm hurting. I understand if an abortion is best for your health, Abbey but you just said it like you didn't give a damn. Like you didn't care." 

"An abortion! When did I...the surgery. Jed, God, how could you think I meant that. I could never abort our child. You should KNOW that!" She turned away so he wouldn't see her tears. "I WANT this baby Jed...I just wish you did," she said sadly. 

"If there weren't any risks, I would be thrilled". 

"There are always risks, Jed. But we'll get through them together. Like we always do." 

"Let's get back to the surgery. What kind of surgery are you having?" He looked worried now. 

"It's nothing major. It's a day surgery. Dr. Brant thinks the reason I was early with Zoey and lost Peter was because there was a weakening in my cervix after Ellie. They do a surgery now and can sew my cervix closed. She says it is very successful." 

"And by doing this procedure you should be able to carry the baby safely?" 

"Hopefully. The goal is to keep the baby inside me for 32 weeks. There is a catch though, depending on the severity of the weakening as the baby gets heavier in my uterus and puts pressure on my cervix, I may have to go on bed rest again." 

"Well, as much as you hate that, it will be nice to have you around all the time," he smiled. 

"Jed," she took his hand. "I am going to do everything right. I'm going to do everything in my power to keep from losing this baby." 

"I know you will. And I'll do what I can to take care of you two," he placed his hand over the slight swell of her belly. "I want it too Abbey," he looked right into her soul with those intense blue eyes that showed her just how much he wanted this baby. She knew he was afraid of the same thing she was, to want it too much and then to lose it. 

"Thank you, Jed," she covered his hand with hers. 

Leo cleared his throat interrupting the intimate little scene. "Sir, the Secret Service is ready. Are you?" 

"Damn straight I'm ready. Ready Abbey?" 

"Ready," she smiled, helping him into the wheelchair. "You know, Leo," she said as they walked down the hall wheeling Jed, "it was kind of nice being Jed and Abbey again for a little while." 

"Yes ma'am," Leo gave her a wink and Abbey knew it was back to the world of sir and ma'am, back to being the President and First Lady. 

Chapter 10: 

The doors to the hospital opened and the sound of camera shutters clicking filled the air. The service had cordoned the press and well wishers far from the hospital exit but it didn't stop them from snapping pictures and shouting questions. It had been almost two weeks since anyone had seen the President save for a few photos released by the White House to quell the ridiculous rumors. 

Jed had vowed to walk out of the hospital and that was exactly what he was going to do. He got up stiffly from his wheelchair and slowly proceeded on using his crutches for support. He stood tall outside the hospital and waved to the press and crowd. Abbey knew he would not allow himself to falter. He walked slowly to the corner of the hospital still covered with cards, notes and gifts. There was a microphone set up there for him to speak. 

"First of all, I want to thank everyone who sent notes, cards, flowers and gifts. Your support has been greatly appreciated. I also want to thank everyone who prayed for me and for my family and I want you to know that I am strong and I am back on my feet. I'm ready to go back to work for America. Again, Abigail and I thank you all for your support over the past couple weeks. God bless you all." 

Then, with Abbey by his side, he began to walk toward the awaiting limo. It came out of nowhere. He felt again the surprise at being punched hard twice, heard people screaming, felt his legs give way as if he were a rag doll. He felt someone physically throw him into the limo and then he could feel the searing, burning pain in his chest and belly. Zoey. Zoey. Was she hurt? No, she was sitting looking at him with horror telling him she was fine. But he wasn't. He knew that now. He couldn't breathe, it felt like he was drowning. He could feel something warm spilling over his chest and looked down with surprise to see his life's blood pouring from his body. My God, somebody had shot him. He was losing consciousness and he fought that. Suddenly he was scared. He was getting cold, he couldn't move his limbs. He was dying and he wasn't ready to die. Abbey. He needed Abbey. He couldn't die without seeing her one last time. Oh God, he wanted Abbey. He was so cold. 

Abbey saw Jed stiffen as he sat in the limo, saw him close his eyes, saw the strain on his face, and saw the beads of perspiration on his forehead. 

"Jed. What's wrong? Are you in pain? I knew I should have made you use the wheelchair." 

"I'm not in pain Abigail," he said tightly. 

"What is it then? You are as white as a sheet." 

"It's nothing. I'm fine Abbey, let it go." Abbey took his hand, felt the tremors, and suddenly she knew. "It's the limo, isn't it?" she asked, stroking the back of his hand. 

"Christ, Abbey. The last time I was in a limo, I was thrown in. My body was torn apart with bullets and I could feel all the blood flowing from me. I could feel my life draining away. I could actually feel my body shutting down. And after realizing that Zoey was OK, all I wanted was to be in your arms. I was so scared, Abbey. All I wanted was one more chance to say I loved you and to say good-bye. God Abbey, I knew I was dying and I didn't want to die without you with me." 

"Oh Jed, I'm so sorry I wasn't with you," she was crying now. "More than anything I wish I'd been with you. I replay that night over and over and I'm just so sorry." 

"Abbey, don't. I don't blame you for not being there. I thank God every day that you weren't. You would have followed me over to the crowd. You might have been shot too. You might have been killed. I couldn't have taken that. No Abbey, I thank God you weren't there." 

"I know, but I can't help but wish I'd been there when you needed me, when you were calling my name," she rested her head on his shoulder. 

"I know baby," he stroked her hair. "But you were there when I needed you. Every time I woke up scared or disoriented in that hospital, you were always there. When I needed you the most, you were there." 

Jed stepped out of the limo at the White House to thunderous applause. Not only was his family and senior staff present but all the White House staff, his cabinet, the Vice President, all leading Democrats, and even a few high ranking Republicans. The members of the Supreme court were all accounted for as well to welcome back the Executive to the Executive branch. Abbey had chosen this entrance because there were only a few stairs for Jed to climb. 

Jed waved to the crowd with a grin and proceeded to slowly climb the stairs. Abbey could feel the tension in Jed's arm, could see the strain on his face. She knew how painful this walk was to him but his pride would not allow anyone but her to see this. 

At the top of the stairs Jed waded through the crowd on his crutches. He finally got to his senior staff who welcomed him home with pats on the back and true joy. These were the people who had seen the bullets rip through his body, the people who had waited in the hospital comforting his daughters while he was in surgery. These were the people who were not just happy to have their President back but happy to have their friend home. But, one person was missing. Jed tried not to show his hurt that Leo was nowhere to be seen. 

"There is cake inside, Mr. President," Mrs. Landingham said. 

"Why don't we all go in?" Abbey had suggested once they had dutifully posed for the press. 

Inside was a huge banner reading 'Welcome back Mr. President' but Mrs. Landingham's cake read, 'Welcome home Josiah'. 

"Before I cut that cake," Jed said, "I have something I need to do." He walked down the hall alone. Had he ever taken walking easily without pain for granted? He opened the door to the Oval Office and saw Leo standing by his desk. 

"Welcome home, Mr. President," Leo grinned. "Ready to get back to work?" 

"Damn straight," Jed laughed. "I thought you might be in here. Leave it to you not to give me a minute to settle back in." 

"Do you want a minute?" 

"No way. Leo, I do want to thank you for everything you did for Abbey and for me during this whole mess." 

"What are friends for?" Leo watched as Jed moved painfully across the room without his crutches to sit at his desk. He leaned back in the chair comfortably. 

"Go have some cake Leo," he said, "I'm back now." 

"Yes, Mr. President," Leo grinned and left the room. 

**** 

"I knew I'd find you in here," Abbey said upon entering the Oval Office. "You do realize there is a party going on out there for you?" 

"Yeah I know. I just needed to get back in here. You know, check the place out. Make sure Hoynes didn't mess up my stuff." 

"You mean take control again," Abbey said knowingly. One of the reasons Jed had been such a pain in the ass for the past week was that he felt out of control of his body and his job. She knew how he hated to feel out of control. 

"Well, Jason already had to leave with Annie to get her back to school, but Liz and your Mom are taking a flight out tonight so it's now or never, pumpkin." 

"OK," Jed sighed, knowing it was time to come clean about the baby. "Should we tell the staff too?" 

"I'd rather wait until after the amnio, when we can report everything is fine." 

"OK," he said, understanding that need in her. 

Abbey returned with their daughters and his family members. Her family had already returned to Massachusetts once Jed was proclaimed out of the woods, but then again, they had already been told the big news. 

"Josiah," Emily said sternly, "you are being a rude guest of honor. Everyone is out there waiting for you." 

"Well, they will have to wait a little longer," Jed said. "Abbey and I have some news we want to share with you all," he put his arm around Abbey's waist. He nodded down to her, urging her on. 

"Well, I know this may be a shock to you all," Abbey continued, "I know it was to us. But, we are going to have a baby. I'm pregnant." There was complete silence as everyone stood in shock. 

"Well, I'll have to remember that line the next time I want to shut a room up," Jed joked. 

"How did this happen?" Emily asked, stunned. 

"The usual way, Mother," Jed said sarcastically. 

"I know HOW it happened Josiah," Emily sniffed. "I mean how..." 

"Well, it's not like we were actively trying," Abbey said, biting her tongue against giving her original answer which would have been 'it's what happens when you don't use those pills you don't want me to use', but she had resolved to get along better with her mother-in-law so her answer was more benign. 

"Well I think it's great," Liz said, moving forward to hug both her parents. She was followed by both her sisters and suddenly the room was filled with congratulations. But Abbey noticed how quiet her middle daughter had been about the whole thing, her hug had been merely perfunctory. So, Abbey pulled her aside. 

"Ellie, is something wrong?" She asked. 

"I just can't understand how you let Dad do this to you. Once you were out of the White House, you were finally going to get to practice medicine without having to worry about taking care of your family too. Heck, maybe Hoynes would have made YOU surgeon general." 

"Whoa, wait right there young lady. Your father did not DO this to me. It's not like he said, 'well Abbey after 15 years I think I'd like to give it another try for a son.' Now I am not going to get into my sex life with your father but I will say that I am the one who initiated everything that brought about this baby." 

"You?" Ellie said with wide eyes. "But you're a doctor. You taught ME about contraception." 

"Yes, I did. But I am married sweetheart, so throwing caution into the wind was an option, and this is what happens when you get caught. Be warned darlin'. But make no mistake, however this baby came about, your father and I are happy about it. Shocked but happy. And as for Surgeon General, I'm sorry Ellie, but I have no desire for that position. Your Dad is the politician in this family. I just want to go back to New Hampshire to my old life, it was a pretty damn good life." 

"Well if you're happy, than I'm happy. Just be careful. Please." 

"I will sweetheart," she accepted Ellie's kiss on the cheek. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Jed was approached by his brother. 

"Well congratulations, little brother" Jon said, shaking Jed's hand. "Before we go home, I just wanted to tell you I'm damn proud of you. I know I didn't say it when you were elected but I am." 

"I know, Jon." 

"No Jed, I mean about it all. You were the one who stood up to Dad and you paid a hell of a price." 

"Yes, well," Jed turned away, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. The only person he ever spoke to on this topic was Abbey. His daughters knew how strict their grandfather had been but he had never let on just what a bastard he really was. 

"Well you got the last laugh," Jon continued, "just look at where you are standing. You are a strong man Jed, you will get through all of this just fine." 

"Thanks Jon," Jed patted him on the shoulder, the closest they would come in their repressed family to a hug. 

As everyone began to filter out of the room to go to the party, Emily took Jed's arm. 

"What is it, Mother?" Jed asked, waiting for some tirade about his and Abbey's sexual irresponsibility. 

"Josiah...I made a promise to God while you were in surgery. I kept my promise but you were unconscious when I did it so that was cheating. I am not a cheater...I..." 

"Mother, what are you trying to say?" 

"I'm trying to say that...I love you. I realized when you were in surgery that I have never told you that. But, I do love you and I am very proud of what you have done with your life." 

"Well, thank you Mother," Jed said clearly moved by her words. "I love you too." He leaned over awkwardly to kiss her cheek. 

"Yes..um..well," she said uncomfortably, "we should go out to your party." 

"Yes mother," Jed smiled, wondering what other surprises his homecoming might have in store. 

Chapter 11: 

Abbey didn't allow Jed to celebrate too long. She could see he was tired, but she also knew her husband. He would never admit that he'd had enough. So she made the decision for him and dragged him away from his admirers. 

Back at the residence, Abbey pulled out Jed's favorite pajamas, his Notre Dame sweats and t-shirt. She moved toward him to help him to undress. 

"Abigail," he said irritated, "I can do this myself." 

"Fine," she put her hands up, "be my guest." She walked away toward her bureau and pulled out her pajamas. She could hear Jed huffing and puffing behind her as he tried to change. Every instinct urged her to help him but his attitude had pissed her off. Finally she heard him sit on the bed. 

"A...Abbey," he breathed. 

"Is there something you need, Jed?" She asked sweetly. 

"Yeah...Uh...I" 

"Oh, just say it for heaven's sake," she said exasperated. "Help, Jed, you need help. It doesn't make you weak to ask for help." She put her pajamas down and moved toward him. He had been able to get his sweat pants on but it had hurt too much to lift his arms to get into his t- shirt. Abbey helped him to get the shirt on, then laid him back in bed. 

"God, it feels good to be in my own bed again," Jed sighed, stretching out while Abbey changed. He immediately noticed the subtle changes in his wife's body. The fuller breasts, the slight curve to her belly, just a general lush ripeness she always got when she was carrying a child. "My God, how did I miss it?" He asked, watching her slip on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a Harvard tank top. 

"Miss what?" She asked while taking her prenatal vitamins. 

"You are most definitely pregnant." 

"Mmmmhmmm," she murmured, climbing into bed next to him. "Jed, I want to be close to you but I don't want to hurt you." 

"Then let me do the holding," he said and proceeded to lay his head on Abbey's chest. He heard her sharp intake of breath and saw her wince. 

"Uh.,.not there," she said through her teeth. 

"Oh yeah...sorry, I forgot." They finally found a position they could cuddle in without causing discomfort to either of them. Abbey tucked her head under Jed's arm and snuggled up to his good side with her arm draped over his waist, not his chest. 

"Do you know how much I've missed this?" Jed asked breathing in the scent of her hair. There was no response from Abbey but he felt wetness on the side of his chest. 

"Abbey, are you crying?" He asked. 

"Just a little," she sniffed. "For awhile I never really thought I'd get to have you back here again. That you would never hold me in your arms again. You really scared the hell out of me, Josiah Bartlet." 

"You didn't really think I was going to die, did you?" He asked, kissing the top of her head. 

"Yeah, I did, Jed. When I heard your heart was not beating when they brought you in, when the doctor gave you a 25% chance to live, when the priest was giving you last rites, when I was just sitting all alone with you in the dead silence listening to the machines that were keeping you alive, yeah, I really did believe I might lose you." 

"I had last rites?" he asked running his hand up and down her arm. 

"Leo didn't tell you?" 

"No. He was there?" 

"He stayed with you the whole time." 

"Where were you?" 

"Puking my guts out in the bathroom." 

"Oh Abs," he closed his eyes against the image of what she had been through. First Zoey, now Abbey. That shooter had really damaged more than the President. He and his family were all going to bear scars from the incident for some time. But, for now, all he could think of was that he was in his favorite place to be. Safe in his wife's arms. Jed Bartlet was home at last. 

THE END! 


End file.
